


Know That I Would Gladly Be

by classics_above_classics



Category: SCP Foundation
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Baking, Friendship, Gen, Hallucinations, Mental Instability, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Torture, Psychological Trauma, Some Plot, Stress Baking, just... some really concerning stuff pops up later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-02
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:26:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 25,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22987081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/classics_above_classics/pseuds/classics_above_classics
Summary: Not everything is going exactly right at the moment. But Eun's going to have to keep going anyway.There are... a lot of ways this can go.
Comments: 7
Kudos: 7





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i'm a little scared of how long this is going to get but my god is it going to be fun writing it!

"Are you getting rid of the butterflies?"

A certain doctor of the Foundation startled, snapped from his reverie by an unfamiliar voice. He turned, disturbing the swarm of rainbow butterflies that had begun to settle around him. Who the hell? If it was one of the agents who had come with him, they would have used their walkie-talkies, or one of the other miscellaneous means of communication that the Foundation had cleared them to use. And even without that, he knew for a fact that the voice didn't belong to any one of them. So who...?

He was answered quickly by the sight of a young girl, one staring at the swarm with an unreadable look on her face.

"Who the hell are you?" he asked, suspicion rising in him. He'd seen that kind of expression before. Almost blank, conflicted and searching under that- if the girl had a weapon, he'd bet she was Serpent's Hand, one of their plants with the appearance of a normal civilian. Though she would be a terrible plant, looking as foreign as she did. Her English sounded natural, past that, certainly not as accented as his own. She didn't look to him to answer, her gaze staying fixed on the rainbow swarm.

"You've got something to hold them in," the girl continued, gesturing vaguely to the container he'd set on the ground in front of him. "You've got gear to catch them, too, and maybe honey in the bowl in your container. So I just want to make sure. Are you getting rid of the butterflies?"

His hand twitched for a pistol. Or a sword. But this was a safe SCP, if not a Safe-class, and he'd been cleared for neither.

"Why do you care?" the doctor replied harshly. "What, do you want them dead? It's none of your business. If it was, I'd know it."

"Ah." She paused, turning her eyes towards him. "Sorry. I know it's not my business, yeah, but... I want to know."

Apologies? That wasn't like a Serpent's Hand member. The doctor frowned, looking her over. No weapons hidden anywhere on her. The hume detector hanging on his belt wasn't beeping at all, and the butterflies weren't reacting oddly to her. A few fluttered near her, but she didn't seem to see them. The only sign she did was how her fingers twitched when one got a little too close.

"What do you know about them?" he asked. Questions, probably, would throw an enemy agent off. And if she wasn't one, if she really was some kid... well, if she knew about them, he'd like some answers as to why.

It took her a second to answer. "I know they take things from me," she replied simply. "Feelings. My caring about things I like or that I hate. I know butterflies shouldn't do that. I know I don't like them. They haven't taken that yet."

... This really had been a late alert, huh? He knew the butterflies had been here a while, but for long enough that a child could figure out their anomaly? "How long have you had them here?"

"I don't know. I've seen them since I was really young. Can't remember the age." The girl looked relieved, at least, that he was answering some of her questions. "My parents say they weren't here before they moved back, though, and they moved back a little before I was born. More than ten years, I think."

"How old are you?"

"Twelve, almost thirteen."

So twelve years, roughly, since this flock had moved in. Their estimate was inaccurate. Then again, reports about a flock of SCP-3209 had only begun coming in a few months before. And the butterflies were in a fairly secluded area, a little clearing deep in a copse of native trees and bamboo that hadn't been chopped down or blown down by storms. He'd keep that in mind. "How do you know about the butterflies, then? How'd you figure out what they did?"

This question took more than a second. The girl thought, trying to phrase it as well as she could. "I figured out people weren't just supposed to stop caring about things. It was just me. And I couldn't find pictures or anything about these rainbow butterflies anywhere, and whenever I came here I stopped caring about something else, and... It took a while to figure something out, but I figured something out. Was I right?"

... Well. That was to be respected. A twelve-year-old girl, figuring out an anomaly as subtle as 3209's without reference, without other examples, without proof. Psychological anomalies were always challenges to isolate for field agents. And, in his case, field doctors. "Surprisingly, yes. It's as much about their effects as I'm cleared to know, anyway, and I'm cleared for a lot."

The girl blinked, turning her searching gaze towards him again. Still blank. He knew blank looks, and while this one wasn't the most effective one he'd ever seen, it was close.

"So they really are why my mind works like this, then."

The doctor knew anger, too, and despite her measured words, he could hear it in her tone. It didn't sound like enough that she'd try to kill any of the butterflies, at least, not quite destructive enough, but it was enough that he shifted to protect the swarm. The girl shook her head, looking towards them. "Are you going to kill them?"

"No. Study them, maybe. I have a thing for butterflies." He glanced towards the container they'd been flocking around. Just a few stragglers left, a few not drinking from the bowls of honey and sugar water. He waved them in carefully before closing the container door. "Do you think I should kill them?"

"I want to say no." The girl shrugged. "Do what you want. I've thrown away enough paper butterflies to know destroying the real ones won't help."

The doctor frowned. That sounded like one of the things they'd been warned to look out for. Suicidal ideation, anhedonia, apathy... he wasn't a psychologist, but he'd listened at least a little during the briefing. And this sounded a lot like it.

"Hey." He reached into his pocket, pulling out one of the amnestic pills he'd been told to take with him. "Take this. It'll make things better."

"Like drugs?"

"Like medicine, G-d." The doctor huffed. Lying wasn't his field of expertise, but he could sure as hell try it. "We were going to look for people affected by the butterflies and give these out, anyway, so it's lucky you came out here."

"Ah." The girl took the pill from his hand. "So like antidepressants."

"Exactly." Close enough. "Just think of these butterflies when you take it. It'll isolate those brainwaves and the feelings associated with them. Then it'll erase the butterflies' effects."

"I could be allergic," the girl mused. "I could be immune for chemical reasons. This could react badly to something I've been eating. You could be lying."

"And?"

After a moment, the girl shrugged and popped the pill into her mouth. He watched to make sure she swallowed it.

"Nice working with you." The doctor tipped his cap, picking up the container full of butterflies and heading back to his team.

The girl stayed where she was, waiting until he was out of sight. She didn't know who he was, what he was doing here-- hell, she didn't know why he really wanted the butterflies in the first place. But she did know one thing, and it was that she wanted to find out.

The girl spat out the pill she'd kept under her tongue and ground it under her heel.

"Eun! Eun, we're going! _Dali na!_ Do you want us to leave you here?!"

No need to answer that. An answer wouldn't stop her mother from yelling. Eun Eru turned away from the clearing that had once been so full of life and followed her mother's voice.

For years, the butterflies had been there when she came. She didn't know what the world would look like without them.

Eun couldn't wait to find out.

* * *

The world was so _loud_.

"-the kitchen is full, somehow, every single oven on and baking, which I'd bet you a hundred is the assistant head's fault-"

Well, not quite the world, but the place she was in was loud. And warm, Eun thought, and alit beautifully in sunlight, the rays through the screen windows turning the halls out in pale colour.

"- did you see? There's a new coffee pot in all of the break rooms, a metal one-"

Her dress and lab coat were both still somewhat dusted in flour and some sugar, but that wasn't an issue. She could still taste the latter on the tip of her tongue, the remnants of what she'd taste-tested before setting a batch of sugar cookies to bake. They would be done in a little while, enough time for her to finish lunch and get to the kitchen to check on her baking. The other researchers would like cookies for dessert, she thought. And cupcakes. And pie.

"- the light's been flickering again; you think that's the skip or a bad lightbulb?"

She was supposed to be paying attention to her friend, yes, but they'd been talking for almost an hour with her now, and she hadn't signed up for that in the slightest. They didn't seem to notice, at least, still going on about things that were unimportant enough for her to tune out. At the very least, they'd likely stop at lunchtime. They were always well distracted by good food.

"-listen, if psych says she's not good for you, she really isn't good for you-"

The halls smelled like cookies, and people, and pie, and perhaps, Eun thought, that made today a good day.

"Eun! Are you listening?"

"Yes," Eun answered after a moment, turning her attention back to her friend. Berry really had been lost in thought, she figured. Usually, they asked her if she was still listening sooner. When they glared up at her as if that would make her tell the truth, she blinked back down at them innocently. She'd lost the ability to care about the morality of lying long ago.

Doctor Henrie Berry frowned, their face scrunching up into a searching expression that Eun had always privately found oddly endearing. "Really?"

"Really."

"What was I just talking about?"

"Good things that happened at work today," she bluffed. They'd started on that topic a few minutes before. She'd been listening enough to decipher that.

Berry... she didn't know what to think about Berry. They were nice enough- she loved their daughter, and they were nice to work with, and they explained concepts so clearly and concisely when she asked about them that she was sure they had to have been some kind of teacher before they joined the Foundation- but they tended to act before they explained things and didn't know how to slow down or match someone else's pace in the slightest. The fast pace was stimulating, yes, but it was constant and unstoppable. She hated that, just a little.

Berry groaned, running a hand through their greying hair. "Sometimes I wonder when the hell I'm going to catch you blanking out."

"Like you'll ever be able to catch me," Eun retorted. "Keep going, doctor. Don't let me stop you."

Her friend acquiesced. "Anyway, so I just got word back from 19 about two transfers I've been requesting for _forever_ , finally. I'll tell you about it in a bit. I think you'll like it. All of which means that at least half of my work's already done, so you don't have to stay late today and help me file things, which you are going to love-"

Love was a strong word for filing documents. Enjoy, maybe, would be better. But Berry used strong words a lot.

"- and when filing is done, we've basically got the whole day free! So you can do whatever you want, basically. Though, if it's fine, can I read to you? I just got this new fairytale book my daughter's been going on and on about, and I brought it in today, and I need practice telling bedtime stories."

"That sounds nice," Eun mused. A storytelling session. It would certainly be a good way to spend an afternoon. Although it was almost as certainly odd that the whole afternoon was clear. Generally, she and Berry had work all throughout. Had they brought work home? Put some off until tomorrow? "What kinds of stories?"

"Dark fantasy, I'm assuming," Berry sighed. "You can tell even just looking at the title. You up for that?"

"So long as it's good," Eun answered. _And emotional, maybe_ , a part of her thought, but that was a lot to ask a fairytale. Fairytales were often just meant to convey morals or pass down something that had been made a thousand years ago. The most she really asked from fairytales was that they make good stories.

"Oh, it's good! I read one of those stories? It's good. You'll like it, I think! The witch in it makes a gingerbread girl." Really, Eun didn't like the taste of gingerbread, but it was always so pretty in stories. "There's food descriptions, too! Maybe you can make some of them for me."

"I'd love to." Maybe that was what the rest of the afternoon was for. Baking whatever wonderful things her friend had found in a book.

Still, why was the afternoon clear? Didn't Berry have a session or some other junior psychologist they needed to help? Half a day spent reading and baking with an assistant psychologist wasn't something they would usually do. Did they need it?

Maybe they'd had a bad session with someone. One that got to them a little. Even in Site 602, one of the sites where things stayed fairly light, there were bad days. Foundation personnel who broke down under the stress of work were often sent to provisional sites like this one, to give them time until they were relatively alright again. Even for the site head of psychology, things could absolutely go wrong.

Maybe they did need it, then. Eun didn't ask.

"What do you have for lunch?" she said instead of her thoughts. "I got takeout."

"Ugh. Takeout. Why do you even like that stuff?" Berry shuddered theatrically. "You can make anything with a toaster oven and the grace of the lord God herself and you decide to get takeout? If it's from that cheap Chinese restaurant down the street I'll kill you with my bare hands."

"It is." Eun smiled as best she could, watching her friend's playful expression shift into something like disappointment. "They have shrimp in their steamed rice. It's got too much soy sauce and their rice is sticky and I love it."

"Why? Why would you do this?"

"The soup-thing they cover the rice in is thick. I microwaved it instead of ordering it a little before lunch."

"You're a class traitor and you won't wake up tomorrow." Berry scowled. "Some junior psychologist is going to walk in on me hanging your body in our office. I'm faking your suicide note."

"As if I'd write one down anyway." Eun smiled. "We both know that I'd forget to. I like your threats this time, though. They're very descriptive."

"The trick is being fully willing to do it." The grin that split her friend's face was comfortably familiar. "Let's hope you wake up tomorrow. If I don't kill you the food poisoning will."

"I am a god and cannot die." That wasn't true, not even a little, but it made Berry laugh anyway. Their sense of humour had always been more than a little absurdist. "You're nothing but a little speck of light to me. You'll never be able to put out a sun."

"Where there's a will, there's a way." Berry shook their head, their eyes bright with amusement. "You're sharing, right?"

"God, no. I bought you your own." Eun made a face. "I'm not sharing with you. My food is my food."

"Traitor." Bery laughed. "Come on, sun god. Let's get your lunch. The cafeteria awaits."

"Indeed it does." And what a wonderful destination it was. All full of the scent of a thousand different foods, and brimming with personnel talking and laughing and filling it with life. It was, perhaps, her second favourite part of the site, just barely after the kitchen.

Berry talked on and on as they retrieved lunch from the office, and then more as they entered the cafeteria. It was almost drowned out by the sound. The cafeteria was warm, despite the air conditioner humming determinedly on the wall, and the tables were comfortably full. As usual, the different departments had gravitated towards each their own members- Eun could see whole groups of analytics researchers plopped down towards the back, containment specialists more focused in the centre and, as usual, the psychology department towards the left, where the tables were usually a little clearer. Berry made their way to the left almost immediately, leaving Eun to follow after them.

"It's been quiet today," her friend remarked brightly, taking a seat at a reasonably empty table. "Surprisingly quiet, really. We just got that new batch of transfers just yesterday, with all those new psychologists in training, but no-one's come in to ask any questions today. Thank god for that; I'd never have gotten all my paperwork done if they'd been interrupting."

That would be nice for a break, Eun mused, but she hoped they hadn't asked any questions because they understood what they were meant to be doing, not because they were scared of her and Berry.

Scared of her. What a thought. Eun didn't know what it would mean if they were.

The others at the table waved hello, sending glances over to her and Berry's direction, but their gazes passed over her and her friend quickly. Berry's smile widened almost imperceptibly, and they settled in with a pleased noise. Eun sat herself down beside them, shoving down a faint discomfort.

Despite being with Berry, at a table half full of people...

Well, Eun thought, it was a little lonely.

Nobody looked at Berry when she was with them. Not really, anyway. And it worked vice versa, too. It was easy to assume Berry had whatever human interaction or attention they needed when they were with someone who looked like their friend. And she'd always been good at looking like she was listening to someone, or like she wanted to listen. It was all bodily cues: facing them, looking at them, meeting their eyes. She could do bodily cues. So when she became Berry's assistant after her year of shadowing them for her qualification to become a psychologist, when she started spending enough time around them that they started wanting to get to know her, it started to give off the impression that Berry had everything they needed. People knew Berry preferred to talk to people one-on-one, after all. And that they didn't like to turn their attention to multiple people at once.

Eun... didn't quite like that. Not as much as they did. But she could stand it well enough. At least Berry liked the arrangement.

"So how has your day been?" Berry asked, reaching for the plastic bag she'd been carrying their takeout in and pulling out their own. Theirs wasn't steamed rice; rather, it was chicken, paired with hash browns and gravy. They swore by fast food rather than anything from Eun's preferred restaurant. "Anything new? Did anyone declare you their archnemesis in the hallways or profess their undying love?"

"What? No, no-one did." She hoped no-one would, either. Being someone's nemesis sounded needlessly violent, and while confessions were sweet in the movies she didn't know anyone nearly well enough to want to accept. "Someone figured out I bought a new coffee pot yesterday, though. He promised me a bag in exchange."

"A bag? That's a new one. Usually it's something like a thank you note." Berry raised an eyebrow. "You recognize him?"

"No. I think he's one of the new researchers." He hadn't introduced himself, but she'd seen the name on his ID. Serebryakov. A cute name. "He's in Research, I think. He said to expect it today."

"What do you make of that?"

Eun shrugged. "Maybe he's practicing crafts. Or maybe he got a bag he doesn't want and figures he can pawn it off on me. Although I'm not complaining. Bags are nice."

"If only he'd promised something else," Berry teased. "Like a waffle iron or a frying pan."

"If only," Eun responded. "I'd love a waffle iron. It makes pancake batter taste so much better when I'm making waffles with it."

"... I don't know if you're being serious or not."

"I'm being entirely serious, Berry. Waffles make everything better." She shook her head. "Well, it doesn't matter. He probably forgot. It seems like such a sudden promise, anyway. I wouldn't blame him if-"

"Miss Eun!"

The sudden call had both Eun and Berry jumping, and they turned to the researcher who'd rushed towards them with identical looks of confusion. He didn't seem to notice. Researcher Sebastian Serebryakov slammed a hand on the table, determination bright in his eyes. Eun blinked first, discreetly pulling her lunch closer in case he shook the table too much. "Oh. Researcher Serebryakov. Good morning."

"It's not morning! And like I said, just call me Sebastian! And-" Serebryakov straightened, his gaze flitting away from her. "And, well, I... I'm sorry! The bag isn't finished yet! I was making it last night but i fell asleep and I didn't have time and-"

"Didn't you just make the decision to give it to me yesterday?" Eun shook her head. "Never mind. It's alright, Sereb- Sebastian. I don't mind waiting. You really don't have to do this, you know."

Serebryakov blinked. "I want to, though."

"... Oh. Well, then, please know that a little delay is fine." The words were enough to make him light up. Eun bit back a tiny smile. "Would you like to sit down? It's time for lunch, and the cafeteria is getting full."

"Hey." Berry laughed uneasily. "Don't assume things, Eun. He might have his own seat, you know-"

"Oh, no, I don't! Thank you for offering!" Serebryakov plopped down in an empty space, either ignoring or not noticing the way the psychologists at the table either sighed exasperatedly or hid a fond grin behind their hands. Some of the new researchers really were so cute. "It was so hard to find a seat yesterday. I mean- It was my fault. I showed up late. Never mind."

"No, that's alright. The cafeteria fills up quickly." Eun opened her takeout box, taking the spoon that had come with it and mixing the soup in with the rice. She nudged Berry lightly under the table. _This is a new researcher. Be nice._ "And there were a lot of transfers, Sebastian. The tables are more crowded than usual."

"... They really are." Berry sighed, offering Serebryakov a hesitant smile. "Feel free to sit here whenever you like. Eun and I aren't going to be here s- _often_ , but the psychology tables usually have enough space for one."

"We're what?" Eun turned to them. They weren't going to be here often? What did that even mean? "Berry, if you're going to try and shut yourself in the office to eat..."

"No! No, not- I wouldn't do that, especially not with you as an assistant. You'd drag me out by my eyelids." Berry laughed. "Typo. Word typo. We're not always at this table."

... Of course. "Feel free to track us down."

"You're pushing it, Eun."

"Maybe I am." Still, it made Serebryakov's eyes light up. Eun let him be. "Have your lunch, the both of you. There's _filing_ to be done after this, Berry, and you know I'd never want to put that off."

"Filing?" Serebryakov blinked. "How is that fun?"

"We have no idea," Eun and Berry both deadpanned, the former's tone far more enthusiastic about it. "But it is," Eun continued. "We can't eat forever. Best to hurry up and get to the next task on the list."

Berry rolled their eyes, digging into their own lunch, and Serebryakov shrugged before taking out his. The cafeteria filled quickly with raised voices, a chorus in Eun's ears, and she gave herself a moment to settle in.

She was in Site 602, warm and bright as it was, and the day stretched out before her full of comfort and familiarity. She couldn't imagine asking for more.

What a wonderful world this was.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> or: in which things only begin to go wrong

The whole afternoon was free again the next day. Eun had to wonder why. Was Berry planning something? Did they just want a break? Was something wrong?

She had a sinking, seeping feeling that something was wrong.

Of course, she couldn't voice that thought when it was probably nothing. It was weird that Berry would take two whole days to do absolutely nothing, yeah, but they could just need a break. They could just want to rest a bit but come into work anyway. There was no reason for her to be worried. None at all.

God, but she worried. She couldn't help but start to worry.

Of course, it was hard to worry with another researcher hanging around beside her, the sound of his chatter filling up the kitchen. Serebryakov was helping her set up trays full of pastries-- tartlets and macarons that just needed to be put in an oven and dough that had just finished being rising. Having someone else with her when she worked was certainly enough of a distraction that the majority of that worry was shoved to the side, filed away for later. The only thing to worry about for now was whether her tarts would be flaky enough and which of the new researchers would like a morning snack.

"Do you do this a lot?" Serebryakov asked, clumsily kneading a sticky fritter dough on a counter surface not quite floured enough. He'd insisted on doing it himself, messy job notwithstanding. She'd let him. "I mean, this takes a lot of time, right? Can you do this every day?"

"Not every day," she answered. "Just on slow days or when work is done." The egg custard tarts she'd finished preparing were baking away happily in the oven, so Eun took the time to wash her hands, heading over to Serebryakov's part of the kitchen and looking over his work. "You can stop for a bit. Re-oil your hands. Maybe dust them with flour. Working with dough all over your hands isn't going to help."

"Oh! Right, thank you." The younger researcher acquiesced, taking the vegetable oil she offered and carefully coating his palms before continuing. "And thank you for letting me help you here. It's... It's nice, helping you! I like it. It's... not as scary as the rest of the site."

"I'm happy that you like it." Certainly it was nice knowing that someone liked working with her, even if it was only with baking. "Is there anything you'd like to make after this? We don't only have to make desserts. There are mushrooms here, so if you like I can make some lunch crepes."

"There are lunch crepes?!" Serebryakov's eyes lit up. "That sounds great! I didn't bring lunch, so it'd be nice to make something." Then he paused, clearly hesitating. "... I haven't... tried mushroom-only  _ anything  _ before, though. Aside from, um... never mind. D-Do you think it'll taste good? It's kind of gross with only mushrooms, isn't it?"

"Well, personally, I prefer mushrooms when they're paired with something." Eun shrugged. "I could probably make them with bacon, too, if you don't want only the mushrooms. It sounds odd, but I've tried it before, and I think it tastes good."

Serebryakov smiled in relief. "Oh, you're adding bacon? Then... Then I know it'll be good!"

Eun had to stifle a laugh. The new researchers really were so cute. Maybe she should try and become friends with more of them.

"Alright, then. You can stop kneading for a bit; it needs to sit for a few hours anyway." She couldn't help a little teasing. "All the yeast in that dough needs to grow up big and strong, and it can't do that if you're always beating it up."

"Don't  _ say  _ it like that!" Serebryakov protested. "I'm not some kid, Miss Eun. You don't have to talk like I'm one."

"Sorry. I'm not trying to be patronizing. It's just how I like to think about it." It was a cute image, yeast growing as if from infancy to adulthood. She knew that it wasn't what actually happened, of course-- yeast fucking and reproducing was what really made dough rise-- but she didn't think Serebryakov would like to know that. He didn't seem the type to like that kind of joke. "You oiled the mixing bowl, right? Put your dough back in there and cover it with plastic wrap. We can make crepes while it rises."

It was still almost an hour to lunch, but Serebryakov did so readily. The smell of food had likely gotten to him. Eun knew the feeling; after a day in the kitchen, she could one of everything baking in it and then some. He helped her make bacon and mushroom crepes excitedly and without complaint, which... honestly, she wasn't used to. It was odd, being bombarded with compliments when cooking, as opposed to Berry's favoured absurd quips or the lack of response when she was cooking alone. It was... nice. It would be nice to do this more.

Of course, she could only do that if she didn't have any work. So it was only more incentive to do things faster. Thank god for free days and Berry's delegation of work.

Site 602 was one of the sites that never really ran out of food. She had a feeling it was only superstition among the containment specialists that caused it, but the fridges were always full, and whenever she started stocking any kind of food it was quickly added to whatever list they used to restock everything. This meant lots and lots of flour, similar levels of milk, and more meat than she could ever hope to cook in her life. The cafeteria had its own kitchen, too, one separate from the anomalous one she usually used, with more advanced equipment and complex tools she always had permission to borrow. It was like a baker's haven and a cook's heaven, she mused, pouring out another smooth crepe and letting it finish on the pan. There was always enough to make something. It was enough to drown worries in on any day.

She was going to end up drowning them today, then, wasn't she? Batter against the unsettled feeling in her chest when Berry fell silent, something in their eyes going dark. Maybe they'd like crepes, too. They'd asked her not to get them lunch today. Why was that?

_ That's not something to worry about, _ she told herself.  _ It's all okay. _

She didn't entirely believe it. But that was okay. Everything would be okay.

"What kind of desserts do you like, Sebastian?" she asked, her own voice a warm distraction from her biting concerns. "There's ice cream in the freezer, strawberry-chocolate pie on the cooling rack... Oh, and some lemon cake from yesterday, if you want lemon. I can make a quick dessert crepe, too, maybe. Crepes suzette or banana and Nutella. Or do you want to search for a new recipe?"

Serebryakov blinked. "What?"

"What do you want for dessert?"

Confusion shone bright in the younger researcher's eyes for a second before he responded. "Oh! Milkshakes! Vanilla is the best flavour, but, um-- You have a lot of chocolate, don't you? You can make chocolate, if you like! Or if you want to use it all. I don't mind anything, really!"

"Vanilla, huh?" They had vanilla beans still. Good. "Don't worry; I like vanilla, too. It's the best flavour."

Serebryakov's face lit up. "I know! It's all milky and vanilla-y and smooth and soft-"

"And sweet, right?"

"Yeah! But not really sweet. So you can make vanilla things as sweet as you want." His smile faded into something softer. "Um... What about you? Do you want milkshakes?"

"Well, we certainly have enough milk. Wash out the blender for me, please? The bacon and mushrooms should be done. I'll put it on the crepes for you and set everything up." The kitchen smelled wonderful. Eun took a deep breath, savouring what she could, before turning back to her work and flipping the last crepe. Just one more to add to the stack and then they'd only have to fill them all up.

Serebryakov got to work, taking the blender off of its machine and quickly running it under the tap, and Eun took a moment to wonder what it would be like with Berry, too. If they'd be willing to make something with her again soon, maybe with Serebryakov too. It was a good way to spend the afternoon. Though maybe they'd want to practice reading stories again? The book they'd bought,  _ The Language of Thorns _ , had been good. She'd heard the fairytale they'd thought she would like, one about a witch and a town where girls disappeared in the woods, and she... well, she had loved it. Would Serebryakov like a story? There had to be one in that book that he'd like.

Then again, it was both his and Berry's choice, whether he'd join in their little story time. And Berry would probably say no.

Honestly, Berry needed more friends. She didn't know how they could live with only her.

Speaking of Berry-- Eun set aside a few crepes for them anyway. She didn't know why they suddenly wanted to try the food in the cafeteria for once, but she certainly wasn't going to punish them for it when they inevitably ended up regretting it.

"Done!" Sebastian exclaimed cheerfully. "I got out the ice cream, too! Vanilla, right?"

"Of course. It's the only flavour to use when you're going to make vanilla milkshakes." Any other flavours and it would just be mixed-up chocolate or strawberry or whatever. "Thank you, by the way. Now all that's left to do is add the milk. Oh, and maybe whipped cream on top?"

"Whipped cream!" Sebastian grinned. "I haven't had them with whipped cream since I was in school. Oh, I hope it tastes as good as I remember!"

It probably would. It was a milkshake, after all. It wasn't as if the tastes of those differed.

Eun shook her head, dispelling the dismissive thought. She took the milk and some thick cream from the fridge, pouring it in until the amount looked roughly even and blending. Sebastian was practically vibrating behind her, excitement clear in every inch of him. They had some large glasses, didn't they? They'd have to get them, too.

"Done," she reported dutifully when the milkshakes had finished blending, turning off the blender and removing the glass container. It was heavy, hard to hold in her hands. "Get some glasses for me, Sebastian. We have to pour this."

"Where's-?"

"The whipped cream is on the table." She'd been using it for hot chocolate the day before and forgotten to put it back. "If you would?"

"Right!" He got to work quickly, retrieving two glasses and setting them on the kitchen table. "This smells really good. Thank you for making lunch!"

"You're welcome." It was something Eun loved to do, honestly. She'd be happy to make him lunch again any time. "Thank you for keeping me company, Sebastian. It's nice, having a kitchen that isn't empty."

"I know, right? Oh, here, I can pour-"

"It's fine." He was a nice boy, really, but Sebastian had a hard time lifting full baking trays. She could pour the milkshakes herself. "You're a guest in my kitchen! It's only natural that, as the host, I serve the dishes."

"But-"

"Trust me. It's fine." Eun filled up both the glasses and topped one with a generous swirl of whipped cream. "I hope you like the crepes. They're still warm, so they'll be wonderful."

"They'd even be good cold, I think! Look at them! You can tell." Sebastian took one, setting it on his plate and offering it out for inspection. The bacon had been honey-cured, with sugar melted onto it for good measure, and if they'd gotten the flavours right it would go amazingly with the more savory mushrooms. "Can I try it?"

"Of course!" It was still a little early, but hunger was hunger. She wasn't going to stop him. Certainly not when the smell was making her own stomach protest at not being full. "Tell me if it's-"

Sebastian shoved a forkful into his mouth, effectively cutting her off. He chewed experimentally, a contemplative look on his face.

"It's good!"

"Thank god." Eun separated two of the crepes, taking them and placing them onto a paper plate she then covered with plastic. "I'll bring them to the cafeteria for my lunch, then. Or, well, dessert."

"Wait." Sebastian paused. "You're not eating here?"

"No. The kitchen's always so full when I'm done with it." Eun laughed. "I wouldn't fit. And Berry eats in the cafeteria, too. They've probably got something fun to talk about today."

"Oh." The younger researcher visibly slumped. "I- Sorry for eating lunch before you."

"That's alright, Sebastian. I got to cook with you. That's more than enough." Smiling indulgently, Eun patted him on the head. He leaned into the touch instinctively for a second, then jerked away quickly, his face flushing with embarrassment. "Just finish your lunch, alright? I'll have my milkshake later. It's good for getting back your energy after a long day of work."

"... Okay." Sebastian still didn't look convinced. Honestly. If Berry didn't let her invite him to their free day, she was going to riot.

As if on cue, there was a knock on the kitchen door. "Eun? Are you still in there? Whatever you're doing, it can probably wait."

"Good morning to you, too, Berry." Eun placed her drink in the fridge and took the plate. "Would you like some crepes? They've got bacon."

"Nah. I'm eating lunch from here, remember?" And, again, why? Why subject themself to cafeteria food? "You didn't have to cook anything today, Eun."

"Not for you, maybe." But there was a researcher here who needed a friend for a few hours and she certainly hadn't refused him. "Are you alright eating here, Sebastian? You can take the plate to the cafeteria, if you like."

"... No. It's fine." Sebastian laughed nervously. "I'd probably drop it, anyway. It's a long walk. And- And the tables might be full. Right?"

Eun sighed. "I guess it is. If you get too lonely, though, feel free to find someone to talk to. The others have to be lonely, too, right?"

"I don't think-"

"Even just statistically speaking. There are, what, a hundred and eighty people working here? What's the likelihood of them all being content and engaged with each other? Answer me."

"... Low?"

"Exactly. Talk to someone." She patted him on the head again, just to watch the embarrassed reaction. "I'm going to go have lunch, alright? See you later."

And with that, Eun left, disappearing back out into the hallway outside the kitchen.

Berry, leaning against the wall, got up when she left. "Finally. You really like indulging the babies, don't you, Eun?"

"Of course I do. They're so  _ soft _ . And it's not like you haven't done the same with Selene's classmates." Besides, new researchers held a special place in her heart. "Are you done hating children now, Berry? Or do you want me to set a little boy on fire and laugh?"

"God, I don't  _ hate  _ them." Berry laughed, shaking their head. "Really, Eun. Come on. The office is this way, and you presumably left your bag and lunch in there, and I'd like to hurry up and watch you poison yourself with terrible food."

"Food you usually ask me to get you. Food better than anything you could ever cook." Eun frowned. "... And food you're not eating now, suddenly. What's all this about your lunch, Berry?"

"What? I just... didn't want to bring any today." Berry grinned. "And besides, the cafeteria exists. I wanted to try it one more time. Most of the people here don't bring food from home or get takeout, you know."

"You've always got takeout."

"Not  _ always _ ." Berry sighed, slipping their hands into their pockets. "Although it is presumably enough. The others used to look at me like something was weird whenever I forgot. They still do, I think! It's just less obvious because nobody looks at us."

"Don't remind me," Eun replied to them. "It's always odd, sitting at an empty table. Or one that acts as if we're not there."

"It won't be empty for long," Berry promised. "At least, not if you did what I think you did. I heard all of the ovens in the kitchen were full again, Eun."

"Ah. Yes, that... That was my fault." A tiny smile tugged at Eun's lips. "I'll share. Just this once."

"You'd better!" The light that shone bright in Berry's eyes at the thought of food was a wonderful one indeed. "What pie did you make this time, you disaster? Apple? Blueberry?"

The look on Berry's face... Eun frowned. She knew that look. They looked like that when things were beginning to go their way, when someone had said something they thought they could use. It was enough to make her apprehensive, at the very least. Her friend was unpredictable. They were good at the heart of it, good at what they did, but...

Unpredictable, she thought, was the word for it. The only thing she could do now was react to the consequences. She hoped things would go well.

"Mango, actually." She'd managed to save up enough to buy ingredients for mango pie filling this week, the mangoes in the international aisle straight from Guimaras. The best mangoes in the world. She'd only made something like mango pie once, before this, when she'd been testing mango tarts a month ago with a lower-quality filling. "I don't think you've tried that before. It's sweet."

"It's perfect, then!" Berry grinned. "If you liked making it, do you want to make more next week? Friday, maybe. Actually, no, make that definitively. You're going to want to make a lot of food on Friday."

"Are we having a party?" She didn't think there were any events scheduled for next Friday. It was Saturday, of course, which meant that she had six days to find good recipes and work out a preparation time for everything, but still. Friday was supposed to be clear.

"... Of a sort." Berry grinned nervously. "It's a goodbye party. For the people transferring out of here."

"Oh." They must have been important people, then. Maybe some of the doctors who'd been in Site 17 or Site 107 before coming here. "What else do you want me to make?"

"No, Eun, that's not the question you're supposed to ask!" Berry groaned, speeding up to walk in front of her. Eun tilted her head in confusion. "You- You're supposed to ask who's leaving. Humour me here. Ask me who's leaving."

"Who's leaving Site 602?" She hoped things would turn out okay for them. A site that wasn't this one... she couldn't imagine it. She didn't entirely want to.

Berry's smile shifted, indulgent and proud.

"You and I, of course."

And the world went terribly silent.

"... What?"

"I applied for our transfers six months ago," Berry continued determinedly, ignorant to the growing horror that was building inside his assistant. "It took forever to finish up all of the paperwork, yeah, but isn't it worth it? We're going straight to 19, Eun! The place where everything important happens. It'll be amazing."

"But- But it'll be so  _ cold _ ," Eun heard herself say past the beating of her heart. It rang out like an echo in her ears. "And so far away, too. I- What about your daughter? 19's in Siberia, right? It'd be so- so sudden. So new. Is she even coming to Siberia? You're not just going to leave her here, right?"

"Of course she's coming! There's a place for her. Not everyone lives  _ in  _ Site 19, you know." Berry shook their head, that smile still bright and unmarred on their face. Eun almost didn't register it. Could- Could that decision still be changed? Why hadn't they told her? "There are towns near the building. Most of them are full of researchers. It's not like we'll be stuck there, Eun; don't worry! Think about it. This is a step up, isn't it?"

A step up from what? From this warmth? From Chicago, somewhere she liked, from a site full of sunlight and the smell of baked goods? From this life she loved more than anything? "It's dangerous, Berry. And so new, too! It's summer, yes, but- but what about school for Selene? Is there anywhere you can enroll her? Has she even agreed to this? And what about the site? You're the head psychologist! If you leave it behind-"

"Please. Emily Springveil's been trying to become the head for years. She'll love the opportunity." Her friend waved a hand dismissively, not hearing her protests. Maybe they didn't want to. "Selene's agreed. It's cold over there, like you said! She'll love it. And she and I have been planning out school prospects for her there, too. I asked her about it the minute this whole thing became a real possibility."

"And you didn't tell me?" Eun stared for a single, disbelieving second before shaking her head. "No. We're leaving on Friday? The day after? I still have to get everything ready, to pack-"

"And you can do that in six days. I know you can!" Berry turned towards her, took a second to look at her, and their smile fell slightly. They reached out, laying a hand on her shoulder in a way they probably wanted to be reassuring. "Hey. It- It'll be alright, Eun. You don't have to worry about not being ready, or about the site or anybody needing your help with anything. You can pack quickly enough. I've seen your apartment, and it's pretty much empty. You could fit everything in a bag and it would only weigh six kilograms. You'll be fine, Eun."

"That's not what I'm saying, Berry-"

"But it's what you're feeling, isn't it?" Not even a little bit. Eun gritted her teeth. "You're always preparing for everything, Eun. Just let me prepare this for you, just this once. You'll be an on-site psychologist there! People will want your help! Didn't you say that was what you wanted?"

"I wanted to do that  _ here _ ." Not in some- in some unfamiliar site where it was cold and she knew no-one and where there were  _ so many SCPs _ . Where she knew at least a few of the rainbow butterflies were likely to have been stored, despite the cold. "602 is important to me, Berry. I work here because I  _ want  _ to be here."

"But won't work be better there?" Berry didn't look confused. Like they misunderstood. No, they looked like they were pleading, like they were trying to convince her to want this too. "You'll be able to do what you came to 602 to do. And there are people there who need someone like you. They need someone who wants to help them, who can help them. God knows a good majority of the psychologists there don't. It's mostly containment psychology staff that work there, the assholes."

"One person isn't going to be enough to change that." Eun scowled. "God knows how you Americans came up with that idea."

"That's not the point!" Berry sighed, as if she wasn't understanding something simple. "I- Eun, I thought you'd be happy about this. It's such a good opportunity! Working at 19 is something junior researchers dream about. The pay is so much better, the benefits are so much better, the work is so much more interesting-"

"Which is why I'm happy that you get that opportunity. Which is why I'm happy that you can achieve that for yourself." Eun took a breath, clearing her thoughts for her next words. "Just... Why did you have to bring me?"

For a moment, Berry was silent. They met her gaze with an unreadable stare, something she couldn't quite place falling dark in their eyes.

"... You're my assistant," Berry answered. "You had to come."

"I really didn't," Eun responded. "Please cancel my transfer."

Berry looked away. The dark look in their eyes hadn't left; if anything, it grew stronger under her gaze. "It's already been approved."

... The audacity. Eun had half a mind to take out one of their eyes.

"I'm not eating lunch with you," she said softly, stepping backwards to the quiet of their office. "I'm locking the door until lunch break is over. Read on your own."

They didn't respond. She turned on her heel and left the hallway, her footsteps echoing out without contest behind her.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> eun yells at berry eun yells at berry eun yells at berry--

Eun was late for work the next day. Purposely, of course. Thirty minutes after work began she walked into Site 602, staring straight ahead and daring anyone to block her path. Way was made for her quickly. She made her way to hers and Berry's office without incident.

Filing the day before had been silent. She'd excused herself to go to the kitchen and test out some more recipes almost immediately after, leaving as quickly as she could. Berry hadn't come after her or tried to apologize or anything. Just stayed in their office until work was over. It had been a quiet afternoon.

... It wasn't Berry she was angry at. Not really. Oh, she was furious at them, of course, as furious as she could get, but what she was truly angry at was the fact that they hadn't even thought to ask her.

Six months. The thought was insulting. Almost condescending. How had she gone six months without knowing about this?! How had Berry decided to go six months without telling her? Didn't they know she would have wanted to stay?

They had to have known. They had to.

Eun bit her lip, speeding up. The thought that they hadn't known was... unsettling. Uncomfortable. Had she not been obvious enough? She'd been trying to be. It was... hard, showing emotions sometimes. Showing how she felt. She knew that. She was trying so hard to change that. It was hard to make her face do what she wanted. Which she knew was more of a problem with Berry- they read faces more than body language, relied on watching expressions and seeing how they matched with words. She was missing half the cues they searched for.

But they couldn't have misunderstood that much. They couldn't have.

Eun stopped in front of the door to their office, reaching out to grip the doorknob tightly. She had to ask Berry again. She had to know why she'd been transferred with them. Despite how much she was already suspecting this was something her choice in the matter couldn't change, she had to know at least that.

... This was wrong. All of this was wrong. Everything in this bright world was going infuriatingly, unfairly wrong.

She loved Site 602. With as much heart as she could, she loved Site 602. She liked to think the people in it liked her, too, even if it didn't go so far as to be love. Why did she have to leave it? Why didn't she even have a say in her leaving it? Berry didn't have to bring her. And even if they did, they had to have been permitted to tell her, right? Site 19 wasn't a secret site of any kind to the Foundation, not some hidden or blackboxed area that only people in deep cover could know about. So why hadn't she known about this transfer before?

Eun resolved to find out, pushing the door open.

Berry was there at their own desk, scribbling down notes onto a clean sheet of paper from an absolute mess of a pad. When they looked up, they only glanced at her for a second before something like regret crossed their face. Like a shadow, Eun thought, one falling over them. She'd never liked looks like that.

"Eun," they tried, setting their papers down on the desk. "Listen, I... I should have asked. I'm sorry for not telling you, for doing this without you-"

"You can't fix that now," Eun replied without missing a beat. Their face fell. "Apologies won't work for that, Berry. You're six months too late."

"Then-"

"What you _can_ do," she continued, "is tell me why."

Why had they transferred her, too? Why had they not told her before this point? Why would they think she'd like it in Siberia, in the cold and in the loneliness of a site she knew nothing of? Why couldn't they cancel her transfer? Why was she meant to go so soon?

"Tell me," Eun repeated. "Berry, I never asked for this. I don't _want_ this. Why bring me?"

Berry turned away. They weren't looking at her anymore. She swore they looked ashamed. _Good_ , some vindictive part of her thought. _You should be_.

"Eun, please don't ask me this." Their voice was quiet. Eun's frown deepened. "Could you just let this go? You can still spend some time here in Site 602. The kitchen is open and it's morning still. I can talk about something else. We can do work, or read, or-- or bake, maybe! You don't have to worry about this right now."

"You told me yesterday that I'd suddenly be moving to Siberia by the end of this week, and that I'd be losing my job here in exchange for harder work in a site I know nothing about because of a decision I didn't even _make_." Eun stepped forward, letting the door slam shut behind her. "I'd be insane if I wasn't worrying."

"Site 19 isn't _bad_ ," Berry tried again. "It'll grow on you! Really! Do you remember how quiet you were back when you first got to 602? You didn't like it here, either. And that changed, right?"

"It changed because this place was bright, and it was warm, and the kitchen was big and the people were happy and I _chose_ to be here since the beginning." Site 19 was not that. "I _wanted_ to be here, Berry, even if it was terrifying at first. I do not want to go to Site 19."

"Why not?" Berry asked. "I'll change the details, if you like! I can ask them to put a nice kitchen in your apartment, I can ask them to give you sun lamps for your office- I can ask for a bookshelf! You like storybooks, right? We can find ones you haven't read and fill up the whole shelf-"

"Berry." Eun cut them off. "Why am I going to Site 19?"

Berry was silent for a long, long time.

".. It wasn't my choice," they said finally. "That's the best I can tell you."

"How the hell wasn't it your choice?" It took effort, real effort, to keep her voice calm. "Weren't you the one requesting the transfers? You wanted to go there, right? You requested the transfers?"

"I didn't request yours."

"Then-" Eun shook her head. Why her of all people, then? Why? "What do the people in 19 want with me?"

"I can't tell you that." Berry looked up. That really was shame, Eun realized. Pity, too. "It's above your clearance level. If I wasn't your immediate superior right now, it probably would have been above mine, too."

... It would have been above Berry's clearance level?

"You're a Four," Eun remarked. "So what are the Level Fives planning? What didn't they include in whatever restrictions they gave you?"

"I can tell you you're going to be a psychologist," Berry answered. "You're not going to be my assistant anymore. You're going to be giving your own psychological sessions, helping some of the people in Site 19 without someone else. You won't be working under me, either. Someone else is going to be helping you and marking your progress, whatever they mean by that. From what I know about the people they're assigning to you, they're challenging cases for someone completely new."

"Are they going to be testing me for something?" Oh, Eun sincerely hoped they wouldn't be. She didn't want to be some experiment, and even if she could care about getting some high, important position, she wouldn't want any of the ones offered there. "Is this some kind of assessment?"

"I wasn't told anything about that." Berry sighed. "That... was definitely within my clearance level, yeah. But I didn't think to ask at the time. They're giving you a place to stay near Site 19 and you're coming with me to get there. Do- Do you think you can stomach a plane ride with me and my daughter?"

"You two aren't the problem." Eun shuddered. Planes? She had to go there on a plane, too? Presumably on a long flight that would take more than half a day? "This really is just... the worst possible situation, I think."

"Eun--"

"Berry, just--"

"Eun, please--"

"No. Just- Just let me say something." Eun took a breath.

" _Fuck you_ ," she said pointedly. "As inoffensively as possible... fuck you. And fuck them. And fuck whoever wanted this. I hope all of your friends have a wonderful day burying you. Fuck this. Fuck this. Fuck this. Fuck-"

"Would you _shut up_?!" Berry snapped, sudden anger flashing bright over their expression. "I didn't want this either, you know! I didn't _arrange_ for this transfer! The best thing I could hope for was that you wanted to go, too! Would it fucking kill you to shut _up_ for a second?!"

"When was this arranged?" Eun shot back. "Why only say it now? Why the hell did you think it was a good idea to _hide_ this from me?! I'm your assistant, Berry! I work with you day after day, every day, and you couldn't even spare five seconds to tell me I was going to Site 19 until the week before we had to go? You didn't consider that I might have had other things to do here? What, did that suddenly not matter?!"

" _What_ other things? What, were you going to see a movie or something? Fuck _off_!" Berry slammed a hand against the desk. "The tickets weren't even booked until yesterday morning! They'd been mentioning the possible transfer for you since last month, yeah, but it's not as if I could have been _sure_!"

"Wasn't I cleared to know I could possibly be transferred last month? It's not as if my security clearance has changed since then." Eun's fingers curled into fists. "Were you not even permitted to mention the possibility? Couldn't you have even _hinted_ that something was wrong?!"

" _Nothing_ is wrong with-" Berry cut themself off, clearly holding back another string of curses. "Listen. I didn't want you to have to worry then. And I wasn't sure! I could have told you it might happen, yes, but what was the point if it all just amounted to nothing?"

"How could you have thought it would amount to _nothing_?! Didn't it result in this?!" _Stupid, unthinking asshole_ , Eun thought furiously. "And you didn't even tell me seriously, either! You had me guess, like it was something that didn't matter! What is this to you? Some kind of game? If you knew this transfer was some kind of test, if you knew I was wanted for a reason, couldn't you at least have had the decency to tell me outright?"

"You're being unreasonable."

"Unreasonable?" Irrational, maybe-- rationally, she should just be letting this go, preparing for what happened next. But not unreasonable. "Is it suddenly unreasonable to have expected you to tell me what the higher-ups were going to do with me? Is it unreasonable to have expected you to say it without pretending everything was fine? Is it unreasonable to have expected that basic fucking decency?"

"God damn it, Eun, I was _trying to give you this!_ " Berry snapped. "I wanted to give you time in this _goddamn_ site without having to worry that you were leaving! I wanted to give you at least a _little_ longer without needing to prepare for something you were obviously going to hate!"

"Oh, isn't that wonderful? Now I only have five days to prepare to leave rather than, say, a month!"

"If you were going to hate going to 19 anyway, why the hell would I be trying to ruin your time being somewhere you loved?!" Berry's scowl deepened. "I care about you, Eun. You're- You're my _friend_. Why wouldn't I want to give you as much time as possible without this worry?"

"Oh?! And why wouldn't you want to _give_ me any information about whether I would be forced to leave?!"

"As if you could even do anything about it! As if anything you did could do anything about it! What, did you think you were going to walk up to the senior staffers and tell them to fuck off like you did to me?!"

Eun couldn't respond to that. Because _yes_ , she _knew_ that she couldn't do that. She _knew_ nothing would change their mind. She knew she couldn't _do_ anything against the higher-ups' decisions, not when they were probably considered and revised and perfected more times than she could ever count.

But didn't she at least deserve to be told when something she couldn't change was happening? Shouldn't she at least have been given the time to make peace with it, or to try and change it as much as she could?

As if that mattered now. The only thing that mattered now was proving how fucking _little_ she wanted it.

Eun fixed Berry with a cold stare. "I'm sorry, did you think I didn't deserve to know?"

Berry glared up at her. "Shut up. Just- Shut up."

It was a second before Eun answered. It was a second before she could. She smiled pleasantly, as pleasantly as she could manage, even if the end result would inevitably be a little strained. "What a rousing fucking debate, Doctor Berry. I am not taking back what I said about hoping your friends would be happy burying you."

"You have paperwork to fill out, Assistant Doctor Eru." Berry's glare grew colder, and they opened one of their drawers, pulling out a thick stack of papers. "Those had better be on my desk by the end of the day."

"You're not getting any pie on Friday." Eun sang out, taking the stack and opening the door. It only served to make their frown more severe. "I'm using the best mangoes I can find, and none of it will be for you. Good luck finding me, Doctor Berry."

She slammed the door behind her as she left. Irrational. Maybe unreasonable. But it made her feel better, and Eun figured that was more than enough to make up for it.

The hallway wasn't empty. It wasn't full, yes, but it wasn't empty. Eun stepped out into the curious gazes of multiple of the younger researchers, the ones who had heard the commotion and decided to stick around and listen. They had guts, she decided. It was enough that she didn't glare in response to their glances.

"... Miss Eun?" One of the lingering researchers approached, looking down at her nervously. Eun let him, easily meeting Serebryakov's eyes. "You're leaving soon?"

"As much as I'd _hate_ to... yes. I think I will be." Eun sighed. It was another researcher asking her this, though, a younger one who'd wanted to ask for her help and one who'd wanted to learn from her, so she offered them a smile that was becoming a little less strained. "Don't worry about me, Sebastian. I'll be alright in Russia. I'll give Site 19 hell for you."

At this, Serebryakov laughed, eyes lighting up with faint amusement. "... Good. I know what 19 is like. They're... kind of scary. Nice, too, but... but if you don't like it there... Make them wish you were still back here."

"I will." She nodded once before stepping away. "Excuse me. I need to go to the kitchen." A lie. She needed some time to get somewhere hidden, more like. The kitchen was the first place someone would go to look for her. The archives, maybe. Or the communications office. Both were quiet enough. And nobody looked for psychology-based personnel in there.

She managed to get away without incident. It was almost... disappointing, somehow. She'd hoped, if not expected, that Berry would come after her. That they'd apologize, maybe. That they would do something, _anything_ , to help quell the anger inside her.

They didn't come.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welcoming some new characters, this time! have fun reading!

The terrible thing about leaving somewhere was how much it made someone want to stay.

It _burned_ , whenever Eun looked to the kitchen or the offices and thought that she would never see them again. It burned to look at the people she'd become so familiar with, to wonder what it would feel like to talk to them and hate that she had never taken the chance. It burned to look up when the lights flickered and wonder if Site 19 would wear away her instinctual response to pack up and leave before SCP-1234 began to bake everything in range. It burned to see a thousand tiny, forgettable things and want desperately to never forget them.

And the anger that caused never really stopped. Not throughout the next day, at least.

Eun very, very desparately wanted to stay in the denial-anger phase of this grief. At least it was something she could fight with. At least it meant not having to think about the thousand things to do next.

She didn't want to have to tell her father. She didn't want to have to go on that flight. She didn't want to have to talk to Selene or plan something to bake before she went or pack the things in her apartment or anything that meant thinking about leaving.

But...

But she had work. But her choice didn't matter here. But she couldn't stop her superiors from making her leave.

_And for what?_ Eun demanded from the air. The dough under her hands was going firm with her furious kneading. For some senior staffer that she didn't even care about who wanted an assistant? She'd make their life a living hell when she found out who they were.

And another thing to do. Find out who the hell had requested her of all people and burn the life out of their body.

... Maybe that was excessive. Maybe they had meant well. Maybe she wouldn't want them tied to a pyre when she wasn't fuming.

But right now? She wanted that. She very definitely wanted that.

Eun's apartment was loud with a loop of instrumental violin and cello, the sound ringing out in her ears almost loud enough to drown out her thoughts. She'd be playing punk rock at full volume if her neighbours wouldn't complain. It wasn't quite enough, though, to wear away the anger. Not immediately.

... She wanted to hold on to that anger. It meant being able to ignore what she needed to do next.

"Dad's going to kill me." Eun sighed, her hands falling still on the ball of dough she'd been taking it all out on. It had taken a week of fighting and fighting and _fighting_ to convince him to let her live somewhere without him. It was... tiring. She didn't need that right now.

She knew she should care more. Much more than the settling fatigue in her chest when she thought about having to fight with him again. If she still had her care for her parents, would she be crying rather than this? Would she want to stay with him? Would she try to bring him with her?

The thought was a hollow, echoing one in her mind. He'd hate the cold. He'd hate every moment of being in Siberia, hate how the chill settled into his bones and made his joints stiff and unmoving. But he'd fight as if it wasn't something he'd hate when she told him, wouldn't he? Oh, god, he would fight.

Maybe she could tell him a minute before she left. That would erase the issue altogether.

... No. She didn't care about him. He didn't matter at the end of things. But she didn't want to become the kind of person who'd carry that plan out. It would be a basic decency to tell him now. And her dough needed about an hour to rise before refrigerating. Their shouting match would use up that time easy.

Eun sighed, carefully pulling up the dough and setting it in an oiled bowl to rise. Covering the whole thing in plastic wrap and setting it in the fridge took up disappointingly little time. She could already see the whole trip to her father's apartment in her mind, a silent thing that promised to weigh on her already.

Another thankless task to accomplish. Like going to Site 19. Like having to wait almost a week to get it over with. Like needing to leave at all.

With a thought of _fuck you_ towards Berry that wasn't likely to be the last, Eun left.

The ride to her father's apartment was silent. Eun almost wished it wasn't. As much as sound grated at her when she was angry, if she closed her eyes and lost herself in it she could at least breathe a little easier. Even in the polluted space of the city, she missed tricycles-- _trisikad_ , the passenger ones, not the three-wheeled bikes everyone here seemed to think they were. She missed being able to hear the sound of the engine and feel every slight bump on the road. She missed the feel of wind in the open compartment and the drivers sometimes talking to her about the province and its wonders, assuming she was someone foreign coming to visit. She missed the lightness of them, something that seemed almost enough to throw away all her worries in.

She wondered, vaguely, what she'd miss when she left. Not much, probably; Chicago seemed almost like the archetype of a city, crowded and urban and cheap in a way that tried to be great. Aside from the warmth-- god, she would miss the warmth-- and aside from Site 602, what would she miss? Would there be anything? Did anything here matter enough to her that she would feel the loss of it when it was left behind?

She didn't know.

* * *

It was far too soon when she got to one Eduardo Eru's apartment. She hadn't been mean enough to get him an upper-floor one, not with the arthritis; he lived on the ground floor, closer to the entrance of the complex than to the sides. His door was well-oiled, and he'd replaced the doorknob himself when it broke-- it was easy to tell his place apart by that. When she got there, the old rock music playing was audible through the walls. Eun didn't bother trying the knob; she knocked first.

"Wait!" her father said from the other side. She imagined the sound of him getting up from some stiff chair, heading for the door. Did he think it was some neighbour coming to complain about the music? From the volume she remembered him always playing it at, and considering that he was already going a little deaf, that probably happened a lot.

The doorknob jiggled, and Eduardo cursed when the lock didn't undo itself as easily as he'd hoped. Eun waited patiently for him to finish unlocking it, tapping her fingers arrhytmically against her thigh.

"Do you need anything?" her father finally said, getting the door open. "I'm not turning down the--"

At the sight of her, he froze.

"Good evening," Eun greeted neutrally, offering him a polite smile. "I've got an issue I need to inform you of."

" _Eun Antonia Eru_!" Eduardo snapped, throwing the door open. Eun sighed, waiting for him to continue. "What the hell are you doing here?! You don't come back for two whole months and suddenly you think you can just show up on my doorstep?!"

"... Yes. This is something you'd prefer to know." She shrugged. "Do you need me to come in?"

Eduardo stared down at her blankly, taking in her familiar calm, and sighed. "... Go inside. What do you need from me?"

"I'm not here to take anything from you." Eun took off her shoes and entered the apartment, listening to her father close the door behind her. He turned down the speakers when he followed, thank god. "It's about work."

"It's always about work when you come here. That's not anything new." Eduardo collapsed into a chair he'd likely made for himself, meeting her eyes tiredly. "What happened?"

So he wasn't in a bad mood. Just a tired one. Good. Maybe this could be a _quiet_ talk. Eun wouldn't bet on it, but her bets were often wrong.

She hoped, for the sake of her time, that this bet was wrong.

"I'm moving to Russia."

Her father choked on his words.

"Wha-- _Russia_?!" Eduardo stood, ignoring the way it made his joints sting. "Why?! You're only telling me now?! When?!"

Oh, and already her bets were turning out right. It was infuriating, sometimes, to be right.

"I have to leave by the end of the week." She still needed to ask Berry about when exactly that was. It would be such a long, long plane ride. She'd have vertigo every second of it. "I was only informed yesterday."

"Yesterday?! Why didn't you tell me then?!" Eduardo yelled. "How are you going to pay for it?! With your job, you wouldn't even be able to pay for yourself! How are you going to pay for me?!"

"I don't believe I will be." The cold wouldn't sit well with arthritic joints, and her father would hate needing to learn another language. The only reason she was sure she could be understood there was because of how immensely international the Foundation's larger sites often were. 17, 19, and the like all needed some sort of communal language, and after the determined spread of Western culture English was often that. "It's an environment you would complain about, and it wouldn't be good for your body. You also seem to have made some friends here, from your... carpentry job or your bar visits, I'm not sure which one. There isn't any need to leave them behind."

"To- You can't decide that for me!" Her father's voice was starting to ring out louder than the music. Eun wondered who his neighbours would think the aggressor was, if they fought. Her or him. She hoped they thought it was her. It was a vindictive little thought. "If you're going somewhere, I'm going somewhere!"

"You don't have to. And I would honestly prefer if you didn't." Eun huffed. "It's going to be hard enough to adjust to Siberia without another fight about my housing. This is why I still haven't told you where my apartment is."

" _Another_ fight? How dare you?!" Eduardo was seething with rage. "You think I _like_ fighting with you?! If you weren't still such a terrible child, I wouldn't have to fight with you! But no! You're _always_ doing things like this! You never tell me anything anymore and you never talk about your work and you're always _hiding_ from me!"

"Stop yelling." Eun stood a little straighter, meeting his eyes as if to challenge him. "It's like this every time I come here. How many times do I have to say it? I don't have to share everything with you. You have a life without me and I have one without you. I will answer your calls and I'll meet with you when you ask to meet. But I'm not moving back in. And you don't need to come. Don't start believing you do."

"Where are you going?" Was that desperation? She hadn't heard desperation from him since she first decided to move out. God, she hated, _hated_ hearing his desperation. It was always so pointless. "I'll buy a ticket. I'll stay there until you're done. How long? A week? I'll stay with you for a week--"

"You won't be allowed to live with me. Whether by the Foundation or by me." Well, the Foundation one was technically doubtful, considering how good they usually were about family members, but Eun herself did have a significant amount of vetoing power. "And as much as I hate even the concept of it, this move is permanent."

" _Permanent_?" And then the anger was back. Good. Anger was so much easier to deal with than denial. Bargaining was always the worst part of grief. And Eun was reasonably sure this was grief. She bit her lip hard and considered what concessions he expected her to make. "You decided to move permanently to Russia without me?!"

"Oh, _I_ decided? Is that seriously where this is going?" No, no, those weren't the right words. The whole thing really did seem like an asshole move, if she imagined herself in it. "Listen, dad, I don't know just how clear I can make this, but _I did not choose this_. And I'd appreciate if we fought without assuming that I did."

"Oh, we've gone _far_ past your appreciation." Eduardo growled. "No, you let your _job_ do this. You _picked_ a job that'd get you sent to two- _two!_ \- different countries while you worked there, and suddenly you're getting mad at me for wanting you to stay with your father for once--!"

"I'm sorry, was it _my_ choice to move to Chicago with you?" Eun's blood was boiling. "Oh, I forgot we lived in a world where seventeen-year-old psychology interns could decide to just leave the fucking Philippines and fuck off to America and drag their poor fathers with them! I'm sorry I forgot it was _my_ fault _you_ got a fucking carpentry job here and took me somewhere I never wanted to go!"

"So suddenly it's fine for you to leave?!"

"Will your answer to that ever be yes or will you shut up and get over it for once in your life?" Eun balled her hands into fists. She needed the grounding before she killed a man. As if she'd wanted to leave then. As if she wanted to leave now. "God, I can't wait until the day you're dead."

"How _dare_ you!"

"Shut up for five minutes and I won't stab anyone." It was a very, very close thing. "That was not my fault. And even if it was, it wouldn't change the fact that I have to go anyway. This is a work-related move and some kind of fucked-up excuse for a promotion. If you'd stop being so hostile about it, that would be amazing. Have you really never heard of not shooting the messenger?"

"The _messenger?!_ You're _leaving for Russia!_ "

" _Listen_ , god damn it! I don't want to leave either! Just like I didn't the first time I got dragged to a foreign place no matter how much I tried to stay." Eun forced herself to breathe. "But you know what? This is something you can't stop. I came here to tell you. I've done that. So I'd be _very_ happy to leave now. I'll see you at the next family reunion I have to fly back to Mayjo or Mandaue to see."

"Eun-!"

Eun opened the door and left. Her father followed, still yelling all the way, grabbing at her arm sometimes to try and take her back inside, but she kept walking until she got outside and managed to hail a taxi. 

"Eun Eru, get back inside _right now_ or I'll--"

"I will slam the door on your arm." Her father was strong, still, from his carpentry, but they were on the sidewalk now, and people were beginning to stare. Good, really. "Let _go_. I can't stop myself from leaving, you know. You won't be able to either."

Eduardo hesitated, clearly ready to fight. But he'd grown up and lived his life somewhere people would step in when people were fighting. They'd be condescending about it, yes, but they'd step in. While that didn't apply nearly as much in Chicago, she could count on his instincts kicking in enough that she could use it.

With a single, furious movement, he let go.

Eun shut the taxi door behind her.

* * *

She did, at the end of it, pay a short visit to the grocery store to get baking ingredients. Berry would appreciate getting that goodbye party they wanted. And as much as Eun would love to deprive them that in some petty act of vengeance, it was as much for the other researchers' benefits as it was for theirs.

Besides, she wasn't going to do Site 19 the favour of making her first mango pie _there_ , after all.

It was fairly late at night by the time she got there, past eight and almost nine, but the supermarket was still open and lit up. It was one of the places she liked a little better, a nice, medium-sized store that closed at ten rather than at nine, so in that single hour it was both emptier than a store normally would be in the hour before closing and still filled with enough people that she could feel safe. This store was closer to Berry's apartment than it was to hers, so she didn't usually go to it, but when she had the opportunity... well, it sold imported ingredients that were harder to find at her usual haunt. And at a lower price, too.

The reasoning didn't technically matter, since she was there already, but it was a more calming thing to focus on than... a lot of things. It was a smaller thing. A better thing.

Eun swung the basket in her hands arrhytmically as she walked, letting it bump against her leg as it did. She had enough flour, adding this and what she had left in the site kitchens, enough eggs to make tarts as well as that pie and some cake, ground pork for empanada and baozi and whatever other meat buns she could find... sugar? Definitely, she needed sugar. She headed for the aisle she it was stocked in. She could make some leche flan for the plane ride. Selene would love some kind of snack.

Selene. God, she hoped Berry's daughter hadn't snuck out to crash in her apartment again. She wasn't there to check on her or make sure she had everything she needed for another impromptu sleepover.

Eun stepped into the aisle full of seasonings-- and stopped at the sight of a familiar little girl with bright red curls.

Selene froze too. So maybe it wasn't too much of a reaction.

"... Honestly. What are you buying this time?" Eun asked, exasperated. "Could it have waited for morning or not?"

Selene flushed, quickly opening her mouth to explain herself. "I'm getting cake! And no, it can't wait, Eun, not if I'm going to get to Lara's party in time. Dad's asleep for once in our lives. I've got to use that."

"Berry? Asleep at nine-fifteen? Forgive me if I don't believe it." Eun reached out, ruffling Selene's mess of curls in greeting and ignoring the flustered protest that followed. "But if they are... well, you can never be too opportunistic."

"Yeah! Exactly!" Selene crossed her arms. "So you can go now. Get whatever you were getting and go. I'll just... be here."

Eun glanced down at Selene's basket. There was already a cake there, one of the cheaper chiffon ones without any icing. There was no need for her to stay if she already had everything she needed. "... Are you sure, Selene? Because you were looking at the sugar too, and, well, if you need it for anything..."

"I don't!" The denial came too quickly for her to believe. Selene stepped away from the sugar she'd been considering, turning her head away. "And it doesn't matter, anyway. My allowance isn't enough for both of them."

Understandable. She had no idea how much money Berry was giving their daughter, but considering the frequency of her trying to sneak out Eun knew full well that Selene would run out eventually. "What do you need it for?" she asked, taking a large bag and plopping it into her own basket.

"... I wanted to use it."

"For?"

Selene's cheeks reddened further. "... Baking, maybe. For you."

Oh.

Eun couldn't help the pride that ran through her at the thought. _Baking_ for her. God, she hoped Berry knew how cute their daughter was. "Well, it'd terrible if you couldn't buy it, then. If you want to bake for anyone, you should be able to do it, shouldn't you?"

"You're only saying that 'cause it's you!"

"I'm not!" Eun held her hands up in surrender, though it didn't do much to convince Selene. "Really, I'm not! It's amazing that you'd want to do this for me. But if you wanted to bake for Berry, or a friend, or for your classroom or something-- well, I'd love that decision regardless. Hopefully you'll like the outcome."

"Probably not." Selene made a face. "If my baking is anything like Dad's... bleh. You're gonna hate it."

"No, I won't." Eun didn't think she could hate anything from Selene. Even if it turned out bitter and crumbly and dry. "You'll do just fine. Don't worry."

"Well." The girl huffed. "Won't be doing much of anything if I can't get any sugar. We've got everything else, but..."

"... You're not wrong." Eun shook her head, placing another bag of sugar in her basket. "Come on, Selene. Where's your friend Lara having this party?"

"About a street away. You know that big house with the white windows?"

"Um, no? Selene, I don't exactly live here."

"It's really big. Doesn't really matter, though." Selene followed after her to the counter. "Lara's got an electric guitar! And I brought my bass over yesterday! So we can play together at the party!"

"That sounds nice." Eun wondered what they'd like to play. "Is she good with her guitar?"

"Of course she is. She's a guitarist." Selene waved the question off easily. "She wanted to play with me one more time before we leave on Saturday."

... Right. That. Eun had almost managed to forget about that.

"Are you going to that party alone?" Eun asked, trying to shove down the way her stomach lurched when she thought about leaving. "It's getting late, you know."

"It's fine." Selene responded all too nonchalantly for someone whose parent always panicked so much when they found her gone. "I'll be okay! Lara's house isn't that far. It's just a little bit away from home!"

"Nope. I don't believe it. I'm walking you there." They were at the mostly empty self-checkout counter now; Eun set her packages on it and scanned them one by one. "Call your dad to walk you back home. They'll be awake by whatever time you decide to leave. They usually are."

"I don't want to disturb them, though..."

"They won't be disturbed by you wanting to get home safe." She ruffled Selene's hair again, drinking in the immediate protest. "Come on. Put all of these in a bag for me so we can get you to your party. Hopefully Berry won't mind your being somewhere else until one A.M."

"... Okay. Fine." Selene got to work bagging everything quickly. It made the work go so much faster.

As it turned out, Selene walked fast, too. She probably didn't want to be late. Eun trailed after her faithfully when they left, faintly confused by her ongoing silence. Usually Selene liked to talk when they went places, whether in a taxi or by walking. It was odd that she was quiet this time.

"... Selene, is something wrong?"

Selene shook her head, gaze directed ahead despite her focus clearly being elsewhere. "No. Everything's fine. It's... it's fine."

Eun frowned, waiting for her charge to elaborate further. Clearly not everything was fine.

They passed by Berry's apartment complex in silence. The building was familiar. Berry lived on the second floor with Selene. Eun knew the worn door and the two-bedroom interior by heart, the posters stuck on every inch of wall and the books all cluttering the tables and shelves despite Berry's best efforts to keep their place clean. She wondered what it would be like not to see it anymore. The idea made her stomach turn.

It took a while before Selene did continue, her voice almost lost in the noise of the streets. "... Eun? Are you and dad really fighting?"

... Ah. So Berry hadn't been able to hide it from her.

"A little bit," Eun said honestly, swinging her grocery bag just enough to keep her mind off of her roiling emotions. "I'm not exactly comfortable going to Site 19."

"Really?!"

"Yeah. Did you think I wanted to?" She didn't much like Chicago, but she did like Site 602, and her routine in it. "I... I didn't actually know I was going to be moved. Berry had the _wonderful_ idea of keeping it hidden until fucking _yesterday_. So we're fighting now."

"... Oh." Selene frowned. "Yeah. They... They do that sometimes."

"I know. I'm just angry they did it _this_ time. In this situation specifically." It wasn't their choice to make. It wasn't their revelation to hide. It was hers, something that changed her life. She'd built such a good one here. To suddenly have that taken away from her by people she couldn't fight... "I'm going to make Berry cry and beg on their knees for forgiveness and _then_ I'm going to talk to them again. Fair?"

"You're going to what?!" Selene spun around, facing Eun quickly. "No! Don't make my dad cry, you asshole!"

"Ha! You can't tell me what to do. I'm going to make them cry and you won't be able to do anything to stop me." Eun shook her head. "Honestly. No, Selene, I'm not _actually_ going to make Berry cry. Not really. We're just going to have a long talk about not hiding things. I promise. Also, don't say "asshole". You know Berry doesn't like you doing that."

She sighed.

... It was easy to promise to do things the reasonable way when you weren't facing someone down directly, without apprehension and fear and hate outweighing any plans made. She only hoped she could keep that promise. She _really_ did want to make Berry cry.

Still, Selene seemed to trust her enough to back down. "Fine. Just... be nice to them, okay? You're scary when you're mad."

"... I'm what?"

"Never mind."

"Well. Okay." She didn't quite... get that. But whatever Selene said.

"We're here!" Selene exclaimed suddenly, skidding to a stop in front of a big house with ornate windows painted in white. "Thanks for walking me, Eun. I... I'll call dad to get me when I'm done. Thanks for telling me what was happening, too."

"You're welcome. Have fun." Eun waved her off, waiting until Selene was safely inside before turning and heading back.

... She needed to pay a visit to a familiar apartment, after all. Berry would like to know Selene was gone, too.

* * *

The doorbell rang.

Berry groaned, shifting from the uncomfortable position they'd gotten themself into on the couch. There was a book digging into their shoulder, a hardcover one they didn't stop to check the title of before chucking it at the coffee table. They were too asleep for this shit.

The book knocked multiple other things off the coffee table, including the lamp and their phone. Berry swore, scrambling off the couch to pick everything up.

The doorbell rang.

"Hold on a second!" they called, balancing the lamp back on the table and making sure they hadn't checked their phone screen. When that was done, they sighed in relief, rubbing the sleep from their eyes. "Okay, I'm done. Coming!"

There wasn't an answer from the other side of the door. Just the sudden sound of footsteps and someone running away.

"... What?" Berry blinked, confused. There was no clarification.

"What the fuck. Okay." They straightened, heading for the door apprehensively. Was this a prank or something? A bomb? Someone getting the wrong door and panicking about it?

There was no way to tell if they didn't try and find out.

Berry opened the door and found nobody. Just a little packed bag of sugar and a note scribbled in brown pen on the receipt. The messy cursive was familiar.

_This is for Selene from me. She's trying to bake, apparently? Hopefully she doesn't set any kitchens on fire. We get enough of that from you._

_Speaking of Selene; she's at a party right now. It's at her friend Lara's house. She'll call you when she's done. I made her promise to do it. Don't start panicking and call her, asshole. Let her be for a night. It's a despedida, if not for the dead._

_You're still banned from the mango pie on Friday._

_Still not talking to you--_

_\-- Eun._

Berry folded up the receipt in their pocket and sighed.


	5. Chapter 5

Eun had been folding butterflies for hours.

It wasn't continuous. That wasn't exactly possible, with the stacks and stacks of work she had to get done, but whenever her hands started to cramp too much she made butterflies. Little folded paper ones to be thrown into the trash the moment they were finished. One by one by one.

If Berry was saying anything, she couldn't hear them.

That was on purpose, too. She'd been playing music for the past hours, too, blasting sweeping violin and folk ballads and rock into her headphones until her brain had enough stimulation to calm down. She hadn't spoken since morning.

The silence was probably helping Berry, too, she thought. They worked better in silence. Headphones had always been a win/win kind of situation for them when they both needed to finish something. It stood to reason that the isolated noise would be a good way to keep them both out of each others' way.

... Eun wished, not for the first time, that she had her own office.

She shoved that thought down, folding a poor paper butterfly's wing roughly and flicking it hard into her trash bin. Her own office. Site 19 would have that, would give her a space all for herself where she could hold meetings like the gentry holding court. She'd have somewhere she could lock herself into when her agoraphobia acted up instead of her needing to ask Berry to leave. She'd have somewhere to stack books in and set out plates of brownies for visitors. Somewhere she could be. But it would have to be at Site 19.

... She tore the next butterfly up before throwing it away.

Her hands weren't quite so cramped anymore. Eun shoved aside her origami paper, pulling a proposal to be critiqued in front of her instead. Using toy guns as tools for cognitive-behavioural therapy... doable, but they'd have to take extensive measures to make sure the shots didn't trigger anything, especially with the recovering field agents. She added that note to the file. Next, a psychological profile she hadn't studied the day before, concerning a researcher she didn't know...

God, she didn't want to focus on this right now.

She was going to bake for a party on Friday. That was distracting enough. She'd clear it with the kitchen staff when she'd finished this pile, which was thankfully almost done, and then... then what? Would Serebryakov want to help her while she made everything? She could give him the more basic tasks, set him to making brownie batter and weaving lattice tops onto pies. He'd like it, she thought. And he seemed lonely. She didn't exactly want to leave him that way. She could talk to the others onsite, too, try and get to know them a little better before she had to leave. It would probably be good. People would probably be able to make the thought a little less looming.

But...

But honestly, she couldn't talk to people right now. It helped, of course, but at the moment she couldn't help but be tired, couldn't help but want to just be alone.

... And that was fine. Feeling like that was fine.

Eun turned her thoughts back to her work.

* * *

Friday came far too fast.

Generally people didn't stay late on-site, but Eun had managed to negotiate for a few more hours evey day to lock herself into the kitchen and work. Which had given her just about enough time to finish everything she'd been preparing throughout the week.

Looking at the tables in the cafeteria, more filled with food than she'd ever managed before, it almost seemed worth it.

The sight of the pastries piled high on every table had been enough to make multiple of the researchers gasp. It had taken a lot of work to make it so. Lattice-topped pies and loaves of chocolate-swirled bread and buns and baked ice cream had been arranged carefully, enough to feed everyone on site for dessert and then some. And surrounding the baked centerpieces Eun had placed dumplings, lunch crepes, roast pork and stuffed chicken- everything she could think to make in the kitchen. She'd likely put quite a dent in Site 602's stores. Not that it would last.

... She hadn't managed to get anyone to help her. Which was fine, honestly. She really needed to stop asking around for any researchers who wanted to bake with her.

It would have been better to make all of this with someone. To be able to talk to them and work with them and have something more to look forward to than the day everyone would see what she'd made. But she couldn't even look at Berry right now and she didn't know anybody else and...

And she didn't think anything could change that right about now.

Eun took a bite of a little egg custard tart she'd saved for herself, one she'd topped liberally with ham and sugar. Her table was a little emptier, clearly missing one pastry in particular. Her plate had a slice of it. And even the sweet taste of mango filling wasn't enough to settle her discordant thoughts.

... It was loud. At the very least, she had that comfort. It was wonderfully, amazingly loud.

"Whoa!" A voice she was quickly becoming familiar with rang out throughout the room, though it didn't quite cut through the chatter. It _had_ to be familiar, Eun mused; its owner had been sitting at her table for lunch every day of the week, just as excited to talk to her every time.

It didn't take long before Serebryakov was running to her table, his eyes wide at the sight of everything she'd made. "Miss Eun! Miss Eun, did you make this? It all looks so good!"

"Oh. Thank you." Eun couldn't help but smile at his earnestness. "Have you tried anything yet? There's enough for lunch and dessert."

"I haven't! What do you think is good?" Serebryakov sat down quickly at her empty table, his gaze flicking between the food set down as if he couldn't quite believe it was there. "There's so _much_!"

"It took a while to make." Thank god for all the ovens. And the fact there were two kitchens. And the fact that she could cook through this morning, too, not just after her shift and the hours she was allowed to stay overtime. Her lab coat and the front of her dress were still dusted both with flour and the crumbs she'd missed. "I'm proud of the pork roast, but I'm not sure if you eat that or not. And it's not exactly that good if you decide to eat it without bread. Not as filling."

There was a lot of bread, though. Plain and flavoured both. She'd made sure there was enough to put all the meat on. It was, perhaps, the easiest part of all the baking. Especially compared to the pies.

"Oh! I'll try the pork roast, then!" Sebastian checked the ingredients list she'd printed out for every table, making sure there was nothing he was allergic to before cutting off a slice for himself. And then a slice of bread to put it on top of. "This smells really nice. What's everything for? Is something happening today?"

"Of a sort," Eun answered, the question only barely souring her appetite this time. "Berry and I are leaving tonight."

"... Oh."

Really, why did that make Serebryakov look so sad? The younger researcher had frozen, his smile falling slightly from his face. Eun shifted uncomfortably, already beginning to regret making a younger researcher look so hesitant. "It's alright," she lied. "Just have fun for today. It's only me and Berry who'll be gone, you know? You don't have to worry."

"... Right. Yes." Serebryakov shook his head. "I'm sorry for... for this. I just..."

She waited for him to continue.

"I- I don't know. I'm kind of scared I'll be lonely...?" Serebryakov rubbed at the sleeve of his sweater nervously. "I- I mean, I shouldn't be putting this on you! It's not- It's not your fault you're leaving, and it's not your fault I'm scared of that, and- and... I don't know. Sorry."

"No, that's alright. You don't have to apologize for that." Eun tried to smile reassuringly. "You're new here, and this site is still unfamiliar, and if someone you're familiar with is leaving it's perfectly reasonable to be concerned."

"Still. It's not _your_ fault I'm scared. I shouldn't be saying this to you." Serebryakov turned away. "I don't- I don't even know if it's okay here. I don't even really know if I like it here. I don't know if I want to _be_ here without someone I know."

... Maybe that was just how it was with new sites. The thought settled uncomfortably in Eun's stomach. "And? There's... not always something you can do against that. Are you alright feeling like that?"

"... Not really?" The taller researcher bit his lip. "Is- Is this what psychology sessions are like? It's kind of nice."

"Oh." That was a new remark. Generally people saw counseling as discomforting. "Do you want to keep going?"

"Yeah." Serebryakov nodded determinedly. "If- If you're okay with it, I mean! Um... what do you think I should do? About that, I mean. About being in Site 602 alone."

When he didn't entirely want to be there? When he didn't know what would happen next? When he was uncomfortable and lonely inside it?

"... Honestly, I think there's only one thing to do." Eun folded her hands in her lap, trying to block out her growing discomfort with the feel of pressure against her fingers. "If you can't leave, and if you can't find a way to get comfortable... let it be. If you _can_ leave, do it, and if you can find a place here that’s wonderful, but if you can’t… sometimes you have to accept things as they are."

The words were bitter even in her thoughts.

She'd love to tell him to just get out. She'd love to tell him to leave and find somewhere he wanted to be and stay there forever. She'd love to tell him that.

But she didn't know why he was here. She didn't know if anyone had wanted him here, if he was going to be kept here by some authority he couldn't fight, if any of the choices he made would change anything. And god damn it, she didn't want to say he could do any of those things if he couldn't.

Serebryakov's expression shifted, twisting into something unfamiliar. Doubting. A little bit betrayed.

"It's alright," Eun said. "Try some of the food? Being full helps."

After a moment, the younger researcher nodded, reaching for a bowl of fried rice. "I'll... I'll keep everything you said in mind."

They ate in an unfamiliar silence for a little, the cafeteria still alive and raucous around them. It was odd, Eun thought, silence with Serebryakov at the table. He liked talking to her, usually. She had a feeling he enjoyed the feel of it, being in a conversation and being able to have someone listening. But now, it was sullenly silent.

Should she apologize for saying what she had? Should she try to make it up to them?

... Probably.

"Stay here for a little bit," Eun told Serebryakov, standing up and making a beeline for the kitchen.

The day before, around halfway through her baking, she'd made herself a milkshake for her troubles. And there was still a lot left over.

It didn't take long to get the cold drink, quickly poured into a disposable cup and covered. Eun made her way back to the cafeteria just as quickly as she had left, this time with an apology gift in her hands. The milkshake was chocolate, this time. She hoped Serebryakov would like it.

"I'm back," she announced when she returned to their table, setting the paper cup in front of her companion. "I made some milkshakes yesterday. There was still a bit in the freezer. Do you want some?"

Despite his earlier disappointment, Serebryakov couldn't help but light up. "Oh! Okay."

He got to work on the milkshake, gulping it down contentedly from its cup. Eun thanked whatever gods would hear her for the pacifying powers of sweet drinks.

As it turned out, lunch was much better when everyone at the table was happy. The revelation wasn't much of a surprise.

... It wasn't the best send-off Eun could hope for. But it was enough.

* * *

The airport was dark despite the fluorescent lights overhead.

Eun's duffel bag was uncomfortably heavy in her hands, packed full of everything she thought she should keep. Berry had been right about it barely weighing anything; it really was only six kilograms. Still, the knowledge that she was really leaving felt like it was hollowing her out.

She hated airports. She hated flying. She hated planes. She hated every single moment of this.

She'd been waiting a while now for Berry and Selene, whose apartment was further from the airport than hers and who were meant to have come here ten minutes ago. They weren't late for the flight, exactly, and everyone already had their tickets, but still...

Eun didn't like being here alone.

Planes had never sat well with her; they made her stomach churn with nausea and made her want to throw up every single time she had been on one. She hated even the thought of stepping on one, for Foundation work or not. The present circumstances didn't make it better, either.

Not for the first time, Eun wondered if she could run. If she could try to escape and sign herself into a hotel as unlisted and hide until she found somewhere the Foundation couldn't find her. Maybe she could quit. Maybe she could get out while her friend and their daughter were still not here.

"Eun!"

... Maybe not.

"Eun, we're here!" Selene let go of her wheeled bag, rushing forward to tackle Eun into a hug. "We're not late, right?"

"I regret to inform you that you should have been here ten minutes ago." Eun shook her head. "It's fine, Selene. We're not late for the flight."

"Dad let me get ice cream," Selene said proudly, holding up a mostly finished sundae that was likely from one of the multiple stores that surrounded the airport. "I can't really finish it, though. I ate all the fudge on it. Do you want the rest?"

"... I'd like that, actually." Eun adjusted her duffel bag, making sure she could balance it on only one shoulder before taking the offered sundae. "Good of Berry to give you something you wanted."

She was resolutely not looking at Berry. But she could practically feel them flinch.

Selene winced, too, discomfort flashing briefly in her expression. Eun paused. "Um. Never mind."

"... Don't say that," Selene responded, her tone going cold. "Just- Just stop."

Alright. She could keep quiet. She really didn't need to make their relationship even worse.

"Sorry," Eun tried. "I'll stop."

"Okay."

Selene nodded, turning back to get her bag, and it was only then that Eun let herself look at Berry. The bags under their eyes were worse than usual. She didn't want to think about why.

"Hurry up, moonshine," they reminded Selene, adjusting their own bag and dragging it forward, past Eun and closer to the plane. They sounded more hesitant than she could ever remember them sounding. "We should get on. It's best to get this over with quickly, right?"

"It is," Eun agreed. "Let's go."

Selene glanced between them both, a frown quickly forming on her face. She paused, staying where she was for a moment, before following after her dad and her friend.

The flight that followed was silent.

* * *

Siberia was cold. The town she was in now was cold. The outside air and the dark of the night held no warmth for her.

Still, there was something to be said about apartments being warm even when the rest of the world wasn't.

Eun was still shaking off the nausea of the long flight she’d been on; the remnants of it still made her sick to the stomach, made her hesitate to lie down in case it made her sickness worse. But even motion sick, she could tell that the little place she'd been given was beautiful.

It wasn't expensive, not even a little, and it wasn't spacious or well-furnished or anything, but it already seemed like far more than the empty, grey place she'd thought it would feel like. It was eight-thirty already, and the sun had long since gone down, but the sun lamp that had been set on the coffee table by the couch shone brightly enough that she could ignore it. Eun had spread a pale pink mat in the corner and arranged chairs and pillows on it, so that she could curl up against the wall with the lamp in front of her and pretend things would be okay. The walls were painted a nice light yellow, her bed was firm, the kitchen had an oven she hadn't tried out yet...

Berry really had tried to make this comfortable for her, hadn't they?

She... needed to apologize to them. She really, really did.

_Another thankless task to accomplish_ , a part of her said hollowly, its voice arising unbidden like it had a thousand times before. Like when she was younger and needed to leave her life and her country and when she'd faced every pain she'd been made to bear and all the way back to her first time leaving a clearing full of rainbow-winged butterflies, her world seeming just a little bit duller because of it. _Now we have to apologize to someone who will do this again and again and again. How many times has their choice made yours nothing?_

Berry was... reckless. And higher-ranking than her. Things just were that way. Even if she felt like this, it wouldn't matter whether she apologized or not.

... Alright. She'd just focus on the fact her apartment was nice and ignore the meaning behind that.

Eun pulled the little space heater she'd brought over closer, savouring the warmth against the blanket she'd wrapped herself in. Despite it being summer, she felt entirely uncomfortable, like her sweater wasn't enough. It was so ungodly _cold_.

Her system was still adjusting, she told herself. She'd get used to it. She'd just have to suffer through the cold for now.

Still, she leaned into the space heater anyway.

Maybe she could paint things here? To make the place seem friendlier? She wasn't much good at painting, but she'd prefer paint far more than things whose textures contrasted with the slight roughness and flat plane of the walls. She could find stencils and paint cakes onto the walls. Maybe wire whisks and doughnuts, too. She'd make constellations out of them, and connect them with long strings that she could clip printed pictures onto.

It would take time. But little things helped when she needed to feel a little better. She'd learned that well the first time she'd moved somewhere new, and gotten an apartment all for her own.

If only little things like that could help with her situation now. Then maybe she'd feel properly okay.

Eun reached beside her, taking one of the many square papers she'd set down and going through the familiar motions of folding a butterfly. Halve, halve, ease open, fold... The repetitive motion helped. She let her eyes fall shut against the light and told herself to breathe.

She'd call Selene in half an hour, ask her how she was setting up and if she liked their new place. If she had the energy, she'd call Berry, too. Maybe she could thank them for setting things up despite everything she'd done. But for now, she needed the quiet. She needed a little time to be quiet.

... She did end up calling Selene, in the end. Not Berry-- not yet, if ever-- but she did manage Selene. The girl was adjusting well. Excited about a new school, excited about a new place, somehow almost as unenthused about Site 19 as Eun herself, though she always sounded like that talking about the Foundation... Well. That was how Selene was.

It was late when Eun ended the call and took the time to rest. Later than it should have been, with work starting early the next day. Sleep came, but it came restlessly, not as easily as it might have come before.

Eun hadn't expected better.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> asjkdiikiv i... am very behind on chapters. not being in school has made me very unproductive with this story, ugh. sorry for the wait and pretty much every other wait that's probably going to happen with this!

Site 19 loomed in the same way Eun's dread of it did, huge and dull and tall enough that it looked like it could reach the sky. Which was telling in and of itself; generally above-ground floors held only Safe-classes in the larger sites. This... was a lot of Safe-classes.

Eun could only imagine how deep the underground levels went.

She was early, of course, earlier than she'd been told to come. She hadn't managed to sleep very well at all. So she'd woken and gotten ready early enough that the sun was still rising when she disappeared into the unfamiliar site.

It was noisy inside, yes, but in a different way, with muffled, inorganic sounds escaping from closed rooms and twisting hallways and from the floors above and below. It sounded like a whole world being hidden away from human eyes, and not in the way that inspired wonder. Eun thought, viciously, that if she had to spend an hour listening to nothing but what she could hear now, she'd cut her own ears out to shut it up. She wanted nothing to do with this echoing, hollow place.

Some unfamiliar doctor had e-mailed her a set of maps the day before, of all the levels she was cleared to explore and of all the places she needed to know. There were... a lot more maps than she'd expected. Her current ID card, still from Site 602, would only work for today. She had to go to the personnel offices to be issued a new one, and then to the office of the same person who'd sent her all the maps. Apparently he'd help in the introduction.

The thought made her scowl. A personal introduction? What the _hell_ was she here for?

Whatever it was, she'd have to ask one Doctor Elliot Barnes herself.

She didn't think she'd ever heard Dr. Barnes's name before. Maybe once, when one of the psychologists from Site 19 mentioned an Elliot they used to work with, but nothing more than that. She knew absolutely nothing about his reputation or what he did. Or what he could possibly be training her to do.

So she'd have to do some information gathering when she found him, then. Oh, she couldn't _wait_.

Eun turned down a different hall, brushing easily past the other researchers making their way through the massive site. They didn't pay her much attention, though a few shot confused glances at her cake-patterned socks and the carefully embroidered pie on the front of her jacket. A reminder of Site 602, a little fad that had been born back when she first joined and that she'd loved enough to keep going. If she found a coat with pastries printed on it she was going to buy and wear it, she swore, lab coat be damned. At the very least it would be warmer than this.

Would she have to bring her space heater to work every day or would there be one wherever she ended up working? She hoped there would be another. If she overheated the heater she'd be cold everywhere.

... Well. She couldn't do anything about that now. The only thing to do was find Dr. Barnes and figure out what the hell she was supposed to be doing here.

The man's office was on one of the lower floors, almost exactly in the middle of the Euclid areas. The lower she went, the more inhuman the sounds behind all the doors were. Eun resolutely did not wonder what was behind them. She wanted nothing to do with whatever hells the Foundation had contained or designed. Sometimes she swore she could hear familiar voices. It was better not to wonder at that, either.

Maybe the offices near the containment cells were soundproof. It would help a lot with productivity. And it sounded exactly like something containment psychology would do.

If it turned out she was working in containment psychology she'd douse the whole goddamn site in gasoline and set herself on fire with it. If Dr. Barnes was easing her into containment psychology she'd burn him first.

Finally, after a maze of long, unmarked hallways full of offices and people she didn't know, Eun found one with the nameplate she was looking for. It was an older, more worn one; Dr. Barnes must have been working here for a while, she mused. No-one had defaced anything, so he had to be either high-ranking or not enough of an asshole to waste the effort on. She'd bet the first option.

Eun knocked on the door.

"Come in," a barely audible voice on the other end replied. "Um, if this is about a meeting..."

"It isn't." Eun paused, wondering if Barnes could even hear her. He'd fallen silent, which she took to mean that he could. "Good morning, Dr. Barnes. My name is Eun Eru. I was told to come here for an orientation."

"Oh! Right. Again, please come in. Apologies in advance for the mess."

At least her being here made _one_ of them happy, Eun thought dryly, opening the door and stepping in.

Dr. Barnes's office didn't look much like a mess. Cluttered with personal items, yes-- she counted at least three throw pillows-- but not messy. Barnes himself looked just about as neat in his fitted turtleneck and reading glasses. He was smiling at her, Eun noted. She couldn't bring herself to follow his example.

"So you're Doctor Eru, right?" Barnes stood, offering out a hand to shake. She hesitated for a moment before taking it. "It's a pleasure to meet you! I'm Dr. Barnes. I'll be the one overseeing your work for now. You were highly recommended for this."

"It's nice to meet you, too. Recommended for what, exactly?" Eun pressed. Maybe this doctor wasn't quite as careful with his information as Berry had been.

Barnes's smile didn't waver. "That's classified as of the moment. But let's put that aside for now. The orientation first! You're surprisingly early, doctor."

"... Assistant doctor, actually." Eun frowned. Unless... "Excuse me, but... Was I promoted? I was aware that I wasn't going to be Dr. Berry's assistant anymore, but aside from that..."

"Oh! They didn't tell you?" Barnes looked genuinely confused by that. So it was within her clearance level. Had Berry not known that or had that information not mattered enough to them in the face of her transfer? "Yes, you were promoted to that. You can still technically serve as an assistant, but it's not your official designation. It's not too different, really. You're just permitted to start a lot more of your own projects. Oh, and to run your own experiments, to choose which SCPs to work with-- though you'll have to clear that with the senior staffers, we all do... You're generally afforded a much higher degree of independence."

"... Oh." She could choose SCPs to work with? That was... new, though she couldn't say whether that was because of the former assistant position or because 602 was a provisional site. Everyone worked with SCP-1234 at some point. There hadn't been any other options. "Which ones am I cleared for?"

"You'll have to do research into that yourself, unfortunately." Barnes shook his head. "I'm not working with any. Mostly I work with the other psychologists. I offer them therapy and manage the department where I can. It's a lot more paperwork than anything."

"Is that so." Then why exactly had he been assigned to her? Had she been transferred for a managerial position? She hoped not. Paperwork was calming, but for it to be her whole job... no.

Barnes caught her apprehension quickly. "Oh! Don't worry; you're going to be a lot more hands-on than I am. I've got a copy of your schedule here. It's, ah... it's a surprising workload for a new psychologist. I hope you'll be alright with it."

"Show me." Maybe she'd be able to figure out what she was supposed to be here for if she saw what she needed to do.

Barnes did. The schedule he held out was indeed filled; the number of personnel she was expected to offer therapy to was, frankly, ridiculous in comparison to the workload she’d seen with Berry back at Site 602. And…

And almost every hour was full. She wouldn’t have any time to rest. Much less…

… They probably wouldn’t let her into the kitchens anyway. This wasn’t 602. And at least she was working with people, not SCPs. She didn’t see a number designation on the list.

“Alright.” She put the issue of overwork aside for the moment. “Are there enough psychologists in Site 19?”

The look on Barnes’s face said it all.

Eun sighed. She had a feeling there weren’t enough. Likely that explained the overload of work. Though if it was a heavy workload even compared to the already high one this site’s therapists had… well. She’d have _questions_.

She’d figure it out. It might take a while, but… She’d figure out what she was doing here. And she’d make this goddamn site regret her being here. She wasn’t going to sabotage therapy sessions or do terrible work, but… she’d figure something out.

“A-Anyway,” Barnes tried, making her look up from the paper, “I should be giving you the site tour! Are you done reading?”

“… For now.” Eun folded the offending schedule, slipping it into her pocket. “I’m meant to have an ID card as well.”

“I’ll bring you to Personnel first,” the other doctor said, standing to lead her outside. He was around her height, Eun noted; she could meet his eyes easily if she had to. “We can get your ID there, then I can introduce you to all the other departments. It’s still early, too! Maybe if we’re fast enough we can get out of the personnel department before…”

“Before what?”

Barnes’s face went a little pale. He shook his head. “… Before Doctor Bright gets here.”

… Ah. She’d heard far too much about Dr. Bright to want _that_. “Lead the way.”

* * *

They did, thankfully, get there in time. The department’s offices were emptier than she thought they would be, though that was likely because of the time. Barnes managed to get her ID before any unfortunate encounters, leaving them with the freedom to continue the tour with minimal distraction.

Despite herself, Eun couldn’t stop looking back to the ID card.

Rationally speaking, she knew it was nothing. There was barely any difference, past the new designation as doctor rather than assistant doctor and the new site. But it felt different. Running her fingers over it, she couldn’t feel the familiar scratches that her last card had borne, couldn’t quite match the smooth feel to herself in the way that she had before. She’d been asked to give her old card over to the staffer who’d given her the new one—apparently there had been quite a few attempts at theft or break-ins with loose cards—so there wasn’t even the dubious comfort of the one she knew was _hers_.

It was uncomfortable. Unsettling. And right now she couldn’t even find the words as to why.

“The more dangerous SCPs are in the underground areas,” Barnes explained as they walked, as if almost every other site wasn’t the same. “Generally, those are the higher-clearance ones, too. You won’t be working in those underground areas, thankfully-- the psychology department works out here—but you should be familiar with the areas you’re cleared for anyway. The personnel you’re going to be working with mostly have their offices there, after all, and it helps to understand the environment they’re usually working in.”

Well, Eun mused, considering she was only a Level Three, there wouldn’t be much of an environment to explore. There had to be floors upon floors for the Level Fours to memorize past what she was allowed to see. What she’d seen of the site alone already seemed to be endless. Thank god for all the maps.

“Where are we going for now?” she asked, keeping her thoughts to herself for the moment. “The containment cells?”

“Yes.” Barnes made a face. His reaction, at least, was a relief. Another point against her being in containment psychology. “It’s… quiet, down there. At the very least it’s quiet.”

Barnes turned a corner, leading her to a stairwell going down into the deeper portions of the site. “… After you?”

So he didn’t like it down there. Eun wondered why. It wasn’t as if being on a different floor would mean anything to half the anomalies they probably had locked up down there. “Tell me if I go anywhere I’m not cleared to go.”

“That’s not very many places in the earlier levels,” he responded. “But I’ll do my best.”

Alright. Taking a last breath of clear air—she could already tell the air down there would be stagnant—she disappeared down the stairwell.

There didn’t seem to be a difference at first, but still, the lower floors felt off. As they walked, Barnes described what he knew of the place and the SCPs within it. His voice was shaking slightly, and it only worsened as they went further down.

There were people in these floors, too, but they looked… different, compared to the ones she was used to from 602. More worn down. It started off looking like simple insomnia or sleep deprivation, but they kept going further and further and the researchers began looking more tired and more broken and more and more apathetic. Several didn’t even seem to acknowledge her and Barnes passing by, only shifting in their tracks to avoid them. It wasn’t unfamiliar, not really—people had ignored her back there, too—but that had been because they had their own things to focus on, their own friends to talk to and lives to live. It rang different when the apathy was clearly because they couldn’t begin to care.

Eun… didn’t pay attention to what Barnes was saying. Couldn’t, maybe—her mind was far more focused on her surroundings than on his words. From behind the thick doors of containment cells and offices, she could hear… nothing. The scant few people making their ways through the halls were the only things making sound, and even then it was nothing past breathing and the quiet click of their footsteps on the floor. Was that what was wrong?

Maybe they’d soundproofed the area to stop people from hearing the anomalies scream or cry or whatever else they did. It seemed like the choice they’d make rather than making it so they didn’t need to scream in the first place.

Her hands itched for paper, for a ball of dough. She curled them into fists and kept them still. There was still more she had to see.

Eun checked her watch, a plastic one with cake pops printed on the strap she suspected had been made for children. Eight o'clock and they had yet to get through all the floors. This site went on forever. If she didn’t turn back now, she swore she’d forget it ever stopped.

Maybe Barnes was scared enough to turn back already. She’d bet he was.

“Dr. Barnes?” she said, cutting into his increasingly rambling explanations. “I think… I think I’d like to go back upstairs now, if possible.”

“Oh! Right, let’s- let’s go back up.” Barnes nodded, turning around as if doing it quickly enough would hide the relief in his eyes. “Sorry for making you go down too far.”

“It’s alright,” Eun responded, not quite sure if she was lying. “We’ve been down here awhile, anyway. It’s probably best if we head back upstairs. People should be coming back in for work.”

That was a good thought. People in the upper levels. Maybe they wouldn’t look quite as dead on their feet as the ones working underground did.

“Your first meeting is at ten o’clock,” Barnes said as they walked out, his voice still quiet against the hollow underground halls. “The orientation should be done by then. Do you think you’ll be ready?”

Was that even a question?

“No,” Eun answered simply, her pace not changing despite how Barnes froze at her words. “I’m not ready. But it’s not like that matters. I’m here now, aren’t I? And I have work to do. My feelings don’t factor.”

“Doctor Eru…”

“It’s alright, Dr. Barnes.” Eun shrugged. “Would you like to keep going?”

“… Yeah.” Barnes sighed uncomfortably, speeding up his pace. ‘Let’s get out of these tunnels. If you’re sure you can start today… then I can’t stop you.”

Good. At least someone was letting her do what she could.

They left the endless maze of the underground sector, silent as they went.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tired.... i don't know if i like this chapter but you know what? that's okay. i'm posting it anyway!

“So! You’re going to be having your first proper therapy session in a few minutes.” Barnes smiled cheerfully, his discomfort very much lessened by not being down in the deepest bowels of the site anymore. Though he was still clearly uncomfortable. “As much as I’d like to just let you start… like I said, Dr. Eru, if you aren’t actually ready we can figure something out. You don’t have to push yourself. It _is_ your first day, you know. You shouldn’t even be _having_ your first session this early; generally we’re given a day or two to get used to a new job or a new site beforehand.”

“I’m aware of that, yes,” Eun answered. “I wasn’t given that time to get used to the site, though, so I’ll just have to adjust.”

“Still…”

“Don’t worry about me, Dr. Barnes.” It was nice, but she really didn’t need it right now. And Barnes was under no obligation to care about her. “I was going to have to start at some point. I don’t mind starting now.”

Barnes’s expression fell determinedly into a frown. He did leave, though, when Eun didn’t respond, so that was a plus. At least he knew to pick his battles.

Eun sighed, settling down into the hard wood of the chair she’d been given. Right. She had a few minutes before her first therapy session started. So she had a few minutes to think about how best to handle it.

She didn’t know the doctor she’d been assigned to for the first session—his name wasn’t one she was familiar with—so it would probably be best to start with an introduction. She’d have to get information about _why_ he needed therapy, if anything traumatic had happened recently that they needed to work through, what specific types of therapy would work best, whether he was willing to go through therapy in the first place or if this was enforced… There were a lot of things she needed to learn before any proper improvement could happen.

The first thing she really needed to reinforce, though, was that it was safe to trust her with any issues.

Which, considering the complaints already listed in the heavily redacted file she’d been given, was likely to take a while. Distrust and hostility were already made clear there, as well as an unwillingness to talk about problems and overwork as a possible coping mechanism. At least alcoholism hadn’t been listed in the file yet. She really didn’t need to compound that with everything already listed.

Eun took out a notepad and wrote the name "Iceberg" on the first sheet of paper. And as if on cue, there was a knock at the door.

Eun startled, turning to the entrance in surprise. After a moment, she steeled herself, calling out to the person on the other side. "Come in."

The person who opened the door was around her height, with hair dyed a pale blue and bags clear around his eyes. His expression was cold, and he clearly didn't want anything to do with meeting her right now. Still, he opened his mouth. "So you're Doctor Eru?"

"I am. And you're Doctor Iceberg, I presume." The man scoffed, glancing down at the name printed on his ID like he thought she could read it from here. "It's nice to meet you. Please have a seat."

Iceberg obliged, closing the door behind him as he went to sit at the chair across from Eun's. The air around him was cold. Eun figured she could ask about that later.

"I've never seen _you_ on-site before," Iceberg started, crossing his legs. "What, are you new? Or were you on the floors I'm not cleared to see yet before getting demoted and sent to try and fix me or something?"

"We're not here to _fix_ you," Eun replied. She "What we're here to do is help you work through any issues you might have and find better ways to react to them."

Iceberg scoffed. "Yeah, right."

Eun raised an eyebrow. He glared right back, daring her to say anything.

She wanted to know why he was here. She wanted to know what had happened to him. She wanted to hear him say it, so she could figure something out.

But asking those questions now would only make him more hostile, Eun thought. So she'd have to attack from a different point.

"Are you alright being here right now?"

That, at least, seemed to blindside him for a second. Iceberg blinked, the hate in his glare switching out into confusion.

"What?"

"Are you comfortable having the session in this office?" Eun clarified. "I'm not sure what you're facing right now, but this might not feel to you like the best place to say it. I'm well aware that we're in the middle of Site 19 right now, all surrounded by walls in a stressful environment, so I want to know if you're alright having therapy here."

At Iceberg's stunned silence-- or, at least, she figured it was stunned-- Eun continued. "I also want to know if you're comfortable having a therapy session right now at all. Like you said, you've never seen me before, and it's understandable that you don't trust me or know what I'm going to do. I can't move or postpone or even end the meeting early without any notes, but I can just leave aside the questions about why you're here for now and let you ask a few or just talk about nothing. Would you like that?"

Iceberg hesitated, pausing to look down at her, before something in his expression gave and he spoke. "Fine. We'll talk somewhere else, then. Botany's got a greenhouse they don't use. I'll lock them out."

"Show the way, then," Eun acquiesced. Locking out the botanical researchers seemed a little too much, but she couldn't deny wanting to lock herself in a greenhouse sometimes. And it would be so much _warmer_ in there. "Could I ask you some questions while we walk?"

"No." The answer was short and immediate. Eun shoved down the irritation that was steadily mounting in her. She wasn't going to take any of it out on the people she was supposed to help. Iceberg stood, leaving the room quickly and not even waiting for her to follow.

Eun managed to take note of the halls as they went, watching for landmarks like nameplates on the doors to keep from losing her way later. Iceberg kept a brisk pace despite the complex maze of halls. The researchers making their way through ducked out of his way the moment they saw him, she noted, some with fear or anger in their eyes and some with barely hidden pity. She filed that away for later, too.

"What do you want from me?" The question came suddenly, though not suddenly enough to jolt Eun visibly out of her focus. "And don't give me the lecture on you wanting the best for all your patients and all that. If you've been working for the Foundation for long enough to be fixing me, you can't possibly actually want that."

But she _did_ , Eun almost said. That was why she'd become a psychologist in the first place. What, was she supposed to have handled years and years of being told to pick something better and find a job better than "talking to sick people" because she wanted the _money_? Please; if she'd wanted that, she'd have become a CEO like every other ambitious asshole. She wanted to help people work with their issues and help them find happiness. Was that not _enough_?

She opened her mouth to say that, and then stopped. Iceberg had stilled slightly, his steps slowing in the middle of the hall they were in.

"... How long _have_ you been working for the Foundation?"

"Six years," Eun answered. Iceberg's fingers curled into fists. "Dr. Iceberg, are you alright?"

"... Those assholes."

"Right. I have no idea what you're talking about." Eun shook her head. "Can I ask what's wrong?"

"You- You're- What do they _think_ of me?!" Iceberg resumed his pace angrily, probably scaring every researcher in eyeshot out of the halls with a furious glare Eun couldn't see. " _Six y_ \- Am I a fucking _joke_ to them?! To _Gears_?! He says he'll get the best and I'm stuck with _you_?! I was a fucking _junior researcher_ for longer than you've been working here! What kind of fucking-"

"If it's any help," Eun said dryly, cutting him off before he could get going, "I've been sent here by the Level Fives. Not that I asked for it."

"You were sent by... Oh." Iceberg turned, his face growing curiously blank, until there was something like a spark of understanding in his expression. " _Oh_."

"Is something wrong?"

"You're like me," he said, with all the pity that came with it.

... Eun didn't know what to say to that.

"Right," Iceberg said hollowly. "Greenhouse." He turned back to his path, looking just a little less hostile this time as he walked. Still holding that bright-burning anger inside of him, but not quite as blatantly.

Well. At the very least, Eun mused, she had some information on his issues. A lot of the hostility likely came from a doubt of others and a _lot_ of pent-up hate. She'd say doubt in himself, too, but assumptions without evidence were both dangerous in psychology and actively harmful when they turned out to be false. She didn't want to put him through something that wasn't suited to him, after all. He didn't deserve that kind of careless treatment.

Still, his words echoed uncomfortably in her head. _You_ _’_ _re like me_. In what? For what reason? Had Iceberg been sent here to be tested, too, to be watched until he either met the higher-ups’ needs or was deemed lacking? And for how long had he been _like her_? Was this what her future would be like? One full of hate and distrust at being under watch?

How long would she have before she became like him, then?

… Eun shoved down the nauseous feeling of her doubt and continued on the way to the greenhouse.

* * *

It was the end of the day before she found any relief from her worry.

The vast majority of the people Eun had been assigned to had hated being there, and fought as hard as possible to avoid giving her proper answers. The few who did say things straight had the most complex issues she'd seen, and even with their cooperation she knew it would be a very, very challenging road ahead of them. The small part of her that always lost itself in psychology was practically alight with excitement at the work that needed to be done. The rest of her wanted to collapse for eight whole hours.

And she had to do this every other weekday for the rest of her time here.

What was the point of sleep? Eun thought sullenly, now in home clothes and lying face-down on her bed. The workload would only pile and pile and pile, until it was so big she could do nothing about it. What was the point of resting, then, if there would never be any respite?

She didn't know right now. Probably, if she was in a better state of mind, if she could think past her bright-burning hate, she'd be able to find an answer, but... Not here. Not like this and not now.

Eun groaned and turned over on her bed, lying on her side. It was quiet. Far too quiet. She couldn’t think, couldn’t focus in this silence.

It was late- she’d gotten off of work late, kept behind by paperwork she felt needed finishing before the next morning- but despite that she didn’t think she could fall asleep either. She probably wouldn’t be able to until one, maybe two in the morning, when her exhaustion hit its peak and she passed out. Maybe her body would be good tonight and knock her out at twelve. That’d be a blessing.

She laid there in silence for a little while before her phone rang.

Eun paused, hesitating before fumbling for her phone and flipping it open. Selene’s number. She put it to her ear and answered. “Selene?”

_“_ _I_ _’_ _m coming to your house. Open the door for me when I_ _’_ _m there._ _”_

“… What? Wait, why-?” Eun sat up, confusion briefly crossing her face. Selene had come to her house before- usually at one or two in the morning after sneaking out of Berry’s and just about giving them both a heart attack- but her watch said it was still eight-forty-five when she checked it. “Did something happen at home? Do I have to get a first-aid kit?”

_“_ _What? No, I_ _’_ _m not- I_ _’_ _m not hurt or anything, Eun, god._ _”_ Selene scoffed. The sound came out scratchy on her speakers. _“_ _Just let me in. I don_ _’_ _t need you for anything, I don_ _’_ _t need you to do anything, just_ _…_ _let me in._ _”_

“… Alright. Not questioning that.” Eun stood, heading for the door. “Are you nearby? It’s cold outside. If you’re not in warm enough clothes you’re going and taking a warm bath, okay?”

_“_ _I_ _’_ _m in, like, fifteen coats! That_ _’_ _s enough coats!_ _”_ She sincerely doubted Selene was wearing that many, but if it was close enough to that number then Eun would let it be. _“_ _You don_ _’_ _t have to act like I_ _’_ _m still seven, Eun. I know how to do things._ _”_

“Is Berry with you? This is a completely different country, Selene. You have to be careful.”

_“_ _They are! They_ _’_ _re not going in, since you_ _’_ _re fighting, but they_ _’_ _re here. I_ _’_ _m not stupid._ _”_ She heard Selene sigh on the other end. _“…_ _Don_ _’_ _t curse at dad._ _”_

“I won’t. Not without being provoked, anyway.” Eun tried to laugh. It fell a little flat. “… Sorry. I’m just… tired. Are you nearly here?”

In answer, the doorbell rang.

Eun sighed, smiling a bemused smile and opening the door.

She’d barely done that when one of the two figures on the doorstep turned away and left. She recognized well the bright red of Berry’s curls, dyed to match their daughter’s. They didn’t look back to see her, leaving for their own home. She didn’t stop them.

Instead, she turned to Selene. “Good evening. I’ll make hot chocolate for us, okay? Have a seat at the couch while I do. And don’t give me that look- the hot chocolate’s for both of us, alright? I was going to make some for myself already. I just need to heat up some water for you, too.”

That was a lie, but Selene really didn’t need to know that. She didn’t need to know Eun hadn’t meant to do anything for the night but sink further into her bed and maybe cry.

“You look tired,” Selene said. Her voice was clear now, no longer distorted by the speaker, and now that it was Eun could properly make out a worn note to it. Selene looked tired, too. “Is the new site being a dick to you?”

“… About as much as expected.” Two cups went into the microwave, both filled with water. They’d be in there for a minute and a half on high. She had a water heater, but for only two cups? She wasn’t going to break it out. “What about you? Are you alright? This town makes me want to suffocate. Is it the same for you?”

“No.” Selene paused. “I don’t… Maybe? It’s not…”

“Mixed feelings are alright, too,” Eun said, heading back to the couch and sitting down beside her. “If you came here to cry that’s fine. I haven’t seen a breakdown yet today. I almost want to change that.”

“You’re an asshole,” Selene laughed, leaning against her. Eun didn’t mention the cursing this time. “… No, I didn’t come here for that. Just came here to see you.”

“Ah.” That made a little more sense. “Was it loneliness, then? Or did you just need somewhere familiar?”

“Definitely the second one.” The smaller girl huffed. “So obviously I had to go to you. Everything that’s yours is familiar.”

“Is that so?”

“Uh, yeah! You’re always _making_ it like that.” Selene gestured to the apartment around them. Eun had rearranged it to mimic the layout of her old one. She’d even pushed her bed into the same corner. “Your apartment’s still different, but it’s… less different. It’s an okay amount of different.”

“I’m happy to hear that it helps,” Eun answered honestly. “It’s a beautiful apartment, isn’t it?”

“It’s pretty,” Selene agreed. “Do you like it?”

Eun didn’t answer.

“… Ah. Okay.”

"More importantly," Eun asked, "when are you going home? I'll walk you back. Or we could call a taxi and take you there when it's time."

"... About that..."

"Selene?"

"... Would it be okay for me to stay?"

Eun paused.

"You want to stay?" she asked. "For the night, presumably? But... why? Did you and Berry get into a fight?"

"What? No! I just-" Selene shook her head. "I just... need this right now. Your apartment's quiet and it's nice and it's warm. And you are too. And dad... doesn't need people right now. They need to be alone, I think. So... would it be okay?"

The microwave dinged.

"... Give me a minute." Eun stood, heading for the kitchen and opening the microwave door. She set both mugs on the table and took two containers of powdered milk and cocoa from her shelves. "Your preferred ratio here is two scoops of milk and one scoop of cocoa, right?"

"What? Oh, yeah." Selene laughed. "That and whatever chocolate syrup you have. I forgot you were making drinks, to be honest."

"That's alright." Eun added Selene's powder and then hers- two scoops of cocoa and one of milk- stirring them into a homogeneous mixture with a teaspoon. "I'll put some ice in yours to cool it down enough to drink. The chocolate syrup's off-limits right now, sorry; I'm saving it for weekend baking."

"Thanks." Selene paused. "So can I-?"

"Selene," Eun said, cutting her off, "the answer is yes. Of course you can stay. Of course I'd be okay with it."

The faint worry on Selene's face melted away. "... Oh. Thank you."

"You're welcome." Eun finished her preparations, returning to the coffee table and setting both their cups on it. "You're always welcome here, Selene. Please remember that."

Selene responded with a bright smile as she grabbed for her hot chocolate. Eun took her own, sipping the warm drink carefully. The smaller girl hadn't brought pyjamas, pillows, a sleeping bag- anything. Perhaps she'd grown used to the collection Eun had amassed over six years of taking care of her. It was just as well; Eun had brought over some of Selene's things, after all. There wasn't any need to add to it.

... The next day would be stressful. Likely the day after that would be, too. But for now, in an apartment that wasn't so quiet anymore... For now, Eun could forget that.


End file.
